


I Already Know

by idiom



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Movie Spoilers, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Rehabilitation, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, TLC, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-21 04:04:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1536845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idiom/pseuds/idiom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>If a ghost knocked on your front door, would you answer it and let him in?</i><br/>-<br/>After all is said and done, Steve is the one person Bucky trusts that he can turn to for help getting back to reality. All Bucky wants is to know his own mind again. Right now, that mind is trapped in the shell of a man he once was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Ghost at the Door

✪

It was late in the afternoon when Steve placed the last box in the moving van. He had spent the better half of the morning helping Sharon – formerly neighbour, nurse,  Agent 13 and Kate – pack and move her belongings out of the apartment building. Sharon had gotten a job offer working for the CIA after the events that led to the dissolution of SHIELD. She was moving a bit closer to her new workplace and had said that she was happy that she’d get to work for a more forthcoming employer.

Steve still chuckled about that every once in a while.

Sharon didn’t have much, her apartment was practically Spartan, but packing and moving her furniture and things had still taken enough effort that Steve had broke out in a light sweat. The sun was glinting off his muscled form as he stepped out of the medium-sized moving van that was finally filled with boxes.

“Nice,” came a voice to his left.

Steve looked over to see Sharon leaning against the banister of the short staircase that led up to the apartment. She smiled at him, and he smiled back

“No problem. Glad to be of service,” Steve said with a little salute, not even registering the fact that Sharon had been checking him out and not congratulating him on a job well done.

Sharon put her hands on her hips and laughed. Steve might have been a super soldier, but he could be completely oblivious at times.

Steve gave her a questioning look, but she just waved it off.

“Never mind,” Sharon said. “Is that the last of them?”

“Yeah, I think so, unless you’ve got more work for me hiding up there.” Steve rubbed his sore hands and looked back at the neatly stacked boxes in the moving van. He turned back to Sharon, smiling at his job well done, but his expression dropped when he saw Sharon standing awkwardly behind him.

Her smile was gone. She was staring at her feet and had her arms crossed over her chest. Her hair was falling to obscure most of her face, but her upset frown was still clearly visible.

“Look, Steve, I’m sorry for-”

“I forgive you.” Steve replied with a pinched smile. He knew what she was going to say.

“No, I need to-”

“Sharon,” Steve cut her off again, this time raising a gentle hand between them. “The past is in the past. S.H.I.E.L.D., HYDRA, all of that, I’m trying to let things go.”

Sharon pursed her lips, biting back a frown. “I know about the file you asked for. Most people wouldn’t define taking on the sort of reckless mission as: ‘letting things go’.” She gave the last part air quotes for emphasis.

Steve cocked his head to one side and shrugged. “There are always exceptions,” he replied.

Sharon looked up at Steve. She saw the cheeky grin on his face and couldn’t help smiling back.

Sighing, she shook her head. “You’re a great guy, Steve. Try to stay out of trouble.”

“Thanks, Sharon. I will.”

There was a brief pause. Steve shuffled his feet and put his hands in his pockets. “And hey, that offer of coffee’s still open. If you ever, or, uh, whenever you feel like taking me up on it just knock on my door.”

Sharon laughed. “Well, thanks. I might just hold you to that.”

Steve joined her in laughing, rubbing the back of his neck as it heated slightly.

“Yeah, please do.”

★

Steve watched Sharon drive away, waving to her briefly. It had been sunny only moments before, but dark clouds had rolled in to overcast the sky. The downpour started almost immediately forcing Steve to head back into the building. He had been looking forward to taking a run then dropping by Sam’s, but that didn’t seem like it was going to happen, especially not when the thunder started booming overhead.

Steve entered his apartment, kicking the door shut behind him. With a heavy sigh he walked into the living room and turned on his record player, setting the volume a bit louder than he usually would since he didn’t have a neighbour on the other side of paper thin walls to worry about anymore.

Steve opened the player’s plastic cover and dropped the pin as the record began to spin with the turntable. There was a moment of static, then the sound big band jazz music started to mixed with the soft pattering of rain outside.       

Steve had just settled into his favourite chair with a copy of one of the president’s autobiography’s when there was a gentle rapping at his front door.

Steve closed his book and looked at the clock. It hadn’t even been twenty minutes since he’d finished helping Sharon move. He hadn’t thought that she would take him up on his offer for coffee so soon, but he was pleasantly surprised.

The knocking came again, this time a little louder and more insistent. Steve didn’t have a knocker, but it  sounded like whoever was on the other side of the door was knocking with a blunt object of some kind.

Shaking his head, Steve chuckled a bit as he got up to answer the door. He called out to the person at the other side of the door, “I know I said, whenever you feel like it, Sharon, but this was a bit-” Steve opened the door “-sudden.”

There, in the hall before him, looking tired and anxious, stood Bucky. He was staring at Steve with that same eerie blank look that he’d had ever since reappearing.

“Who the hell’s Sharon?” Bucky asked in a dull tenor.

Steve’s breath caught in his throat.

Bucky was soaking wet, even the hoodie and the cap he was drenched leaving his long, dark hair dripping. His blue eyes stared out from behind the wet strands. He looked like one of those kittens that got left in a box on the side of the road.

Bucky was standing in a puddle on the floor and there was a trail of water leading behind him. That trail didn’t lead back to the stairs, instead a wet line seemed to start at the window on the other end of the hall. He’d obviously broken into the building.

Steve jerked back away from the door as if coming  to all of a sudden. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then opened them. The other man was still there. He was alive.

“Bucky?”

Bucky looked up, his cold blue eyes meeting Steve’s. They were so familiar, but any recognition of familiarity was trapped in a far off gaze.

“Hi,” he replied. It was curt, but at least it wasn’t: ‘who the hell’s Bucky?’

For the second time in as many minutes, Steve was left speechless. He just stared at Bucky as if he was seeing a ghost. The air between them was thick with tension. Steve realized that he had been holding his breath and sucked in a gasp.

“Uh, can I take your hat?” he asked, after that awkward pause. It was a poor attempt to break the tension, but it seemed to work. A bit.

Bucky frowned and looked up at the brim of his black baseball cap. He pushed his hood back with one hand and took off the hat. Looking slightly confused, he handed it to Steve.

“I was just-” Steve was about to say 'joking', but instead he sighed and took the hat. Hesitantly stepping aside, he let his estranged friend into his home and hung the wet cap on the coat rack by the door.

In the back of his mind, Steve could hear Sam calling him an idiot. He was crazy, letting a guy who’d tried (repeatedly) to kill them into his home.

But Bucky had also saved his life. More than once.

Sam’s fretted voice was muted by Steve’s joy over seeing his best friend alive and well - or alive, at least.

✪

Buck stepped cautiously into Steve’s home. He moved slowly, his eyes shifting. Apprehension gripped him as he moved down the short hall, scoping out the room ahead, looking for threats.

Steve was about to put a hand on his friend’s back to usher him further, into the living room, but just before he made contact he snatched his hand back, fisting it and dropping his arm to his side.

Eventually they reached the living room. Steve sat on the couch, hoping it would inspire his guest to do the same, but Bucky just stood awkwardly in the center of the room.

“Do you wanna sit?” Steve asked, gesturing to the chair across from him, next to the record player.

Bucky blinked, as if he didn’t understand. He turned to look at the proffered seat and just stared for a second. Right next to the seat was a boarded up window

Bucky closed his eyes tight and fought back the memory . He walked to the other side of the room, taking up an identical chair away from the window.

Steve looked at the chair he’d offered, wondering what was wrong. Shrugging, he awkwardly scooted across the couch so that he was sitting a bit closer to his friend. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out for a moment.

“Uh,” Steve cleared his throat and tried again, “Fury’s fine, by the way.”

Bucky looked up at him, his brow creased in a frown.

“Nick Fury. SHIELD agent. The guy you, uh, shot,” he clarified.

At hearing that, Bucky closed his eyes again, a pained expression pinching his features. He stared down at the floor and then closed his eyes as if trying to block something out.

Steve realized his mistake quickly. He ran his hands over his own face, taking a deep breath.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I thought you might want to know.  In case-” he stopped. He wanted to alleviate Bucky of some of his guilt, he wanted to ease the tortured suffering in those dead blue eyes of his, but it wasn’t going to be easy. This wasn’t a situation they could just talk through and they definitely couldn’t wipe the past start again.

That was the last thing Steve wanted to put Bucky through again.

So, they sat together in silence. Bucky eventually opened his eyes again. He looked forward, staring into nothingness.

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes.” When Bucky finally spoke up his voice was disturbingly monotonous. “Orphan from Brooklyn.  Childhood friend of Steve Rogers, Captain America.”

Steve frowned. He barely recognized Bucky’s dull emotionless voice. And what was he even talking about?

“Bucky, what-?”

“Soldier in the 107th. Captured. Rescued. Killed in action during the Second World War.”

Steve bit the inside of his cheeks and frowned down at the floor as he tried to understand the meaning behind Bucky’s words. He parted his lips and was about to repeat his interrupted question when he heard a choked sob.

Steve’s head shot up. In the chair across from him, Bucky was trembling. Steve felt his heart clench, aching in his chest as he witnessed his friend’s obvious distress.

“Please, help me,” Bucky whispered.  “I can’t-” his voice broke. He pressed the heals of his hands into his eyes and curled in on himself.

Steve’ stood immediately and stepped towards Bucky’s chair. He grabbed the other man’s wrists, stopping before he could start digging his metal fingers painfully into his skin.

“Buck! Hey!” Steve gripped his old friend, trying to get the other man to look at him. “Everything’s going to be okay just calm-”

“Пусти́!”

As soon as he was touched, the Winter Soldier’s soviet programmed instincts emerged. The metal plates on his arm folded in as Bucky pushed Steve away from him. He threw Steve back with a great force, drawn from the advanced tech in that metal arm.

Steve stumbled back, tripping and landing on his back on the hardwood floor. He wasn’t given the chance to recover; Bucky was on him as soon as he hit the ground. He straddled Steve’s lap, locking their legs so that Steve couldn’t use them to kick him off.

Steve struggled, trying to throw Bucky off with a thrust of his hips, but the other man’s grip on him was solid. It wasn’t long before Bucky got his metal hand around Steve’s neck. The tech whirred into action and a metal fist clenched tight, but not enough to completely collapse the cartilage of Steve’s trachea.

With his airway throttled, Steve choked, gripping the silvery hand around his neck and trying to pull it off his throat.

“Buck... Bucky...”

There was a flash of recognition in Bucky’s eyes. They went wide, horror-stricken. He let go of Steve immediately.

Steve lay on the floor. He didn’t even move to stand, just trying to catch his breath for a moment.

Bucky stood and staggered backwards away from Steve. He only stopped when his back hit a wall. The room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing. Both men were frozen, their minds puzzled, trying to piece together what had just happened.

Once Steve had gained some feeling back in his throat, he pushed himself up off the floor a bit. He rested on one elbow, massaging his soar neck. With absolutely zero accusation in his eyes, he looked up at Bucky, calm and forgiving.

Bucky was shaking again. His face pointed towards the ground, he didn’t meet Steve’s gaze. Gripping fistfuls of hair in his hands, he tore at the long, dark strands. Steve was worried he was going to pull them out at the root, but he did not dare touch Bucky again.

“It’s all my fault. I killed them all. I couldn’t stop. I killed so many people, but I- tsh,” Bucky made a sound as he choked back sobs. “I tried to kill you. I know you. Why would I do that? What’s wrong with me?” Steve could tell that Bucky wasn’t really talking to him as he spoke.

“Bucky,” Steve rasped out when his throat finally began healing itself. “This isn’t your fault.”

Finally releasing his dishevelled hair, Bucky let out a humourless laugh. He quieted down, and the laughter dissolved into shaky breathing.

“I- I shouldn’t be here,” he whispered. “I need to go.”

“No, you don’t.” Steve stood and took a cautious step towards his friend. He approached the other man without breaking into his personal space.

“Let me help you, Buck,” Steve was pleading with him now. He reached out, but held back at the last second.

Steve closed his eyes and lowered his head, he just wanted things the way they were, they way they were supposed to be.

“No!” Bucky turned on him with pained rage in his eyes, but he didn't lash out. Somehow, Steve could tell most of that anger was directed inward. Bucky was just so confused.

“You can’t help me! I’m dangerous! All I can do is-” Bucky shook his head and swallowed. “All I can do is stay away. That’s what I should have done. I should have just stayed away! I should have just stayed!”

Bucky was spiralling down, yelling at himself at that point. He was tilling a deep pit and filling it with his despair. He’d dug so deep that he was trapped in the hole, unable to climb out no matter how hard he tried. Fear began to grip him, tearing at his chest from the inside out until suddenly a warm embrace wrapped around him. The sensation lifted him out of the grave he’d ploughed out in his mind, even if it was only for a moment.

“I know you can get by on your own, but you don’t have to. Remember?”

Bucky’s eyes went wide for a second as he recognized his own long forgotten words in part of what Steve said. He lowered his forehead to the other man’s shoulder and returned Steve’s embrace, wrapping his arms around the other man, clinging to him as if his life depended on bodily contact. It was a simple hug, but it warmed Bucky to his very core in a way that he couldn’t remember ever having felt.

“Hey,” Steve whispered, as softly as he could, his face half buried in Bucky’s hair. “You’re gonna stay here. Alright, Buck? We’re gonna get through this together.”

Bucky seemed confused, but slowly he nodded.

“Good. I don’t want-” Steve cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice from cracking with emotion. “Don’t leave me again, okay.”

“But-”

Steve cut him off before he could start rambling off his worries all over again.

“You need to get out of these clothes, you’re soaked through,” he interjected, in an effort to change the subject. “Just relax a bit in here, I’ll find you something dry to wear.”

Bucky frowned. He was still unsure of the situation, but after a few calming breaths he said, “Alright. Mind if I use your shower?”

“Well, I didn’t want to be the one to suggest it,” Steve teased, with a soft smile. He realized that, like before with the hat, Bucky had no idea what he was talking about. Instead of explaining the joke, Steve just waved Bucky towards the bathroom.

“First door on the right.”

Steve walked back into the hall and collected some sweats from his bedroom drawers. While in his room, he noticed that he could hear the shower running a lot louder than seemed normal. The bathroom door typically muted some sound, didn’t it?

Steve walked back out into the hall to find that Bucky had left it wide open.

Steve looked at the small pile of clothes in his hands and shrugged, he could leave them on the counter for Bucky when he got out. Deciding on that, Steve lowered his eyes and approached the bathroom.  He transferred the clothes to one hand and knocked lightly on the threshold, but he realized quickly that Bucky couldn’t hear him over the running water.

Steve called out, “Hey, Buck? I’m just gonna put these here. Is that-?”

Steve looked up only briefly, but his eyes were glue to what he saw. He swallowed as thick bile rose up his throat.

Even through the foggy glass, Steve could see that deep scars that had been cut into his friend’s skin. Some where long since faded while others were raised and still pink with healing scar tissue. The scaring was most grievous around that metal arm on which Steve swore there had once been a red painted soviet star. All that remained of it was a bit of scratched metal and chipped paint.

Years of doing HYDRA’s dirty work had not been kind to Bucky.

Steve had to look away. Inside, he still blamed himself for what had happened too Bucky. If only he’d been drafted sooner. If only he’d kept up to date on new intel. If only he’d reached him in time.

The room was suddenly quiet when Bucky turned off the shower.

Before Steve could step out of the room, the shower door slid open and Bucky stepped out of the shower. He looked at Steve curiously, but said nothing. His complete lack of shame as he stood there naked surprised Steve.

Steve still hadn’t gotten over his 40s mind-set and, even though he’d seen Bucky naked a million times in their scrapped-together wartime showers, he was red in the face. This wasn’t the Bucky that would just laugh and smack him with a wet towel, this was different. A different person.

Steve stared up at the ceiling as he spoke. “I was just bringing you some clothes.”

Bucky noticed the clothes in his hand and nodded. “Where do you keep your towels?” he asked, still entirely austere.

“Cupboard. Under the sink. Uh, I was just going to leave these here and, uh, yeah.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Steve shook his head “Sorry! No problem.”

Bucky got a towel and started towelling off his long hair, still making no move to cover himself or shut the bathroom door.

Steve closed his eyes, realizing he should have probably left a while ago. He pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand. “Do you want a coffee or something?”

Bucky perked up at bit a that, a little spark lit up in his eyes. “Do you have tea? Like, black tea.”

“You don’t-” he stopped himself right there, biting his lips. Bucky had never been a tea drinker. Maybe it was a Russian thing?

Steve forced himself to smile.

If Bucky wanted tea, Steve would brew some tea.

“Tea it is.” Tapping awkwardly on the bathroom threshold, Steve stepped back and out of the room. He barely heard the whispered, “Thank you” that followed him down the hall.

★

It took Steve some time to find all the materials to even make a cup of tea. He found the tea, some stuff Natasha had left with him after S.H.I.E.L.D. had cleaned and repaired his apartment. Natasha claimed it would nurture a climate of hospitality if he made it for people visiting his house. It had sounded weird and Steve had almost laughed like it was a joke, but he’d seen the slight narrowing of Natasha’s eyes that said it definitely wasn’t. So Steve had thanked her and tucked it away in a cupboard.

Steve wasn’t really a tea person.

But he made the tea, adding milk and sugar because he wasn’t really sure how Bucky liked it, but surely no one could bring themselves drink the stuff black. Once done, he went to find Bucky, carrying the over filled cup carefully as he padded across the floor.

“Bucky, I wasn’t sure how you take it so I-” Steve looked up and nearly bit off his tongue when he entered the living room. He nearly spilled the fresh mug of tea in hand.

Bucky was laying on his couch with one arm thrown over his eyes. His damp hair clung to his brow and cheeks. He was wearing the modern clothes Steve had left for him: an old grey army hoodie and a pair of dark-red sweatpants. Everything looked too big for Bucky, who by all accounts, though extremely fit, was half starved.

He was reminded of all those times long before the war when he’d needed to borrow some of Bucky’s clothes when spending the night. They were always several sizes too big. Steve had looked like a little kid trying on one of his dad’s suits. Steve laughed.

The sudden noise roused Bucky. The other man shot up suddenly, his instincts to protect himself kicking in in response to some unknown threat he’d dreamed up. His bionic arm dug into the back of the couch, snapping and peeling the surface of the wood.

Steve immediately stopped laughing to himself and winced. He could practically hear Bucky’s heart pounding from across the room.

“Sorry, Buck, it’s just me.”

Bucky looked at his hand and let go of the back of the couch, leaving finger shaped dents in the wood.

“Sorry,” he muttered, staring at the damaged spot and then his own hand. Steve watched as he curled the metal fingers into a fist and pulled the sleeve of the hoodie over them. It would have been adorable, if it was so sad.

“Don’t worry about it. My strength got the best of me a lot before I figured this new body out,” Steve chuckled half heartily and looked up with a fond smile. “You remember the time I-”

Bucky’s expression dropped and cocked his head to one side.

Steve cleared his throat. “Sorry, never mind that. Here, I brought you tea.”

He handed Bucky the mug. It was a kitschy red, white and blue thing he’d picked up at the Captain America Smithsonian exhibit. It was probably the tackiest thing he owned, but he liked it.

Bucky accepted the mug, dextrously avoiding making any skin contact with Steve as he did. He wrapped his hands around the warmed ceramic and sighed gratefully.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he whispered, staring down into the mug.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. “It’s just tea.”

“I mean, you didn’t have to let me in.”

Steve’s brow furrowed at that. Of course he had to, this was Bucky.

“Hey, you’re my best friend. I’m gonna help you, Buck.”

Bucky was quiet for a long time. He just sat there, letting his hands be warmed by the mug. Finally, after what seemed like ages he said, “Thank you... Steve.”

The sound of his name uttered in such an unfamiliar manner hung heavily in the air between them.

Steve took a shaky breath and forced a smile.

“There are pillows and stuff in the closet. Get some rest, okay.”

Bucky seemed to be on pause, staring blankly into his mug for a second.

“Okay.”

✪

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos are a cup of tea in Bucky's hands.  
> Your comments alleviate some of Steve's angst.
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://itsanidiom.tumblr.com/).


	2. Old Friends and New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I am so happy about this fic's reception! Thank you guys so much for reading!

✪

Steve decided to give Bucky some space to rest, just for a few hours. He shut himself up in his bedroom with headphones on, listening to Marvin Gaye. The Trouble Man soundtrack Sam had sent him was playing on a loop.

Sam had called it soul music and Steve was credulously grateful for that. His soul was definitely in need of something to help reduce the ache growing inside it, but he wasn’t really paying attention to any of the lyrics. He just lay in bed, staring up at nothing until it started getting dark out.

The album was already starting its fourth repeat.

Steve really needed a nice hot shower and something to eat

When he got up and headed to the kitchen to make himself dinner, he was half expecting Bucky to have run off, disappearing as was his way. Bucky had spent so long as a ghost, travelling from place to place on soviet and HYDRA orders, their Winter Soldier. Sitting still for even an evening probably felt... unnatural.

Steve bit his lips, preparing himself to enter the living room and find his friend vanished from his life once more. But, no. When he turned the corner, he saw that Bucky was still laying on his couch. He was wide awake, staring up at the ceiling with a dark, but thoughtful expression.

“Morning, sleepy head,” Steve joked. He felt really lame as soon as the words left his mouth, but thankfully Bucky didn’t seem to notice.

“It’s not morning,” Bucky responded automatically. “It has been approximately two hours since you left the room.”

Steve blinked. Slowly and a bit awkwardly, he sat in the chair across from the couch and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Uh, you didn’t get any rest, did you?”

When Bucky chose not to reply, Steve knew he’d messed up.

“Geez, Buck,” he started, running his hands over his face. “I didn’t mean to leave you in here alone, I thought you might want some space to get settled or something.”

Rolling his head languidly, Bucky looked at Steve for the first time since the other man had come back into the room. He didn’t seem angry, or even a little bit upset. His cool expression was completely blank as usual. A mask.

“Can I make more tea?” he asked, eerily polite. “What you made tasted like milk water.”

Steve was slightly taken aback, but there was something about that lip that made him grin. Something that reminded him of the Bucky he used to know.

“Sure thing, I’ll show you where everything is.”

Steve hopped up from his seat while Bucky followed behind more leisurely. When they got into the kitchen, he leaned against the counter, watching Steve pull various items out of the cupboards: a clean mug, the tea tin, a strainer.

“You don’t have a samovar?”

“A what?”

Bucky sighed. “Never mind,” he sulked.

Standing back to give Bucky room to go about making another – better – cup of tea, Steve imitated him in letting out a haggard breath of his own. He wasn’t sure about all of these new things he was learning about his friend. The Russian. The tea. Those were probably just the first of many things that had changed about Bucky.

They were new memories, Steve wanted to know what had happened to the old ones.

“Hey, all that stuff you said earlier, about before... all this,” Steve started carefully, vaguely gesturing to the modernity surrounding them. “Is it coming back to you? Did you remember all that,” he asked, hopefully.

Bucky was quiet for a moment. He wanted to say yes, because he knew it would make Steve happy, but a part of him that had only come into existence when he’d encountered his old friend told Bucky that he shouldn’t lie.

He knew the lie would make Steve happy, but he also knew that Steve would rather have the truth than some fabrication. Lying was wrong. There was no point.

So Bucky answered honestly, “No.” Even as he saw the disappoint cast a tortured shadow over Steve’s face, he explained, “I went to your exhibit at the Smithsonian.”

“Oh,” Steve perked up. His cheeks coloured and he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a bit much, isn’t it.”

“Yes.”

Steve let out a little huff of a laugh at Bucky’s quick reply. Bucky had always been quick with a quip. Steve hadn’t realized how much he’d missed having a friend like that. He liked Tony Stark for his similar trait, but they didn’t have the personal history that helped differentiate his teasing from his being a jerk.

“You have my file. You already know I can’t remember anything,” Bucky muttered, getting passive aggressive all of a sudden as he fiddled frustrated with the tea strainer. “I heard your friend mention it this morning.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest . “So you do know who Sharon is?” he teased.

Bucky confessed to nothing.

“I do have your file. Yes,” Steve admitted. “But, part of it’s in Russian and part of it’s in German and half of it’s missing or censored.” He scratched the back of his neck. “What exactly did they do to you, Buck?”

“They had a machine. It made me forget.” That was about as much detail as Bucky wanted to give, but he could already see Steve was pining for more.

“Did- did it hurt?” he asked quietly, as if someone else was there to hear.

“Yes.” Bucky cast him a side-ways glance. “But then I would forget. Pain and forgetting was sometimes better than-” Bucky stopped and looked down at his hands. His metal fingers twitched anxiously.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” he announced suddenly.

“Of course! Don’t worry about it,” Steve backed off immediately, which Bucky appreciated but it was too little too late.

His hands were shaking as he went to pour hot water from the kettle over the packed tea strainer in his cup. Steve was kind enough not to comment and he kept his expression neutral even though Bucky could sense waves of worry flowing off him.

 “I’m sorry. I won’t bring any of that stuff up again,” Steve promised. “We can or not talk about whatever you want, Buck.”

Bucky looked at him cautiously for a second and then slowly he nodded. He felt relaxed and grateful as if a huge weight had been taken off his shoulders.

Steve smiled and was about to leave the room while Bucky finished making his tea, but his friend’s voice stopped him before he could make his exit.

“Steve?”

Steve tried to keep the pained expression off his face when Bucky said his name in that odd unfamiliar tone again. “Yeah?”

“We- we were happy together. You and I. Before.”

The words were so choppy, Steve cocked his head to one side, a bit confused. But after catching a glimpse of Bucky’s earnest blue eyes, he let out a breath. His entire form sagged and he leaned, relaxed against the door of the fridge.

“Happy? I’d say so, Buck,” he replied with a smile. “You were my wingman!”

Bucky frowned. “We weren’t pilots.”

“It’s just a thing people say.” Steve laughed and, before he could remember to restrain himself, he playfully punched Bucky in the arm. Immediately after making contact, he pulled his hand back and sucked in a breath.

Bucky looked between his fabric covered metal arm and Steve’s hand, completely unaffected. He didn’t lash out, he simply looked confused and then went back to making himself tea. Part of him wondered if Steve hit him because he said something wrong, but an assuring memory told him that it was a playful action between friends.

Shaking off an odd feeling, Buck looked down at the box the tea had come in. He turned it in his hand and read the script on the side that Steve had never been able to read himself.

“This is very good quality,” Bucky murmured.

Steve let out the breath he had been holding, relieved. He’d touched Bucky and he hadn’t lashed out like before.

That was progress.

“Yeah, the tea was gift,” Steve replied. “You enjoy it. I’m just going to take a quick shower so I hope it’ll hold you over until we eat. I’ll be out in a minute. Think of what you want for dinner.”

Bucky squinted, his eyes narrowing at the apprehension that Steve was going to make them food. Some long forgotten part of him didn’t think that would end well.

With a sigh, Bucky looked away from Steve’s retreating form and down at the tea steeping in the cup on the counter in front of him. Staring into the dark liquid, Bucky let his mind wander back to his trip to the museum. He had hardly been able to believe that it was his face he was seeing in the videos on display there. Seeing that happy, care-free, smiling version of himself... it just didn’t feel real. It was like he’d been staring at his own doppelgänger.

★

Bucky finished making his tea, adding only the tiniest bit of sugar into the heavily steeped mixture. He wondered back into the living room, another of Steve’s tacky mugs in hand and was about to take up his place on the couch again when the front door was suddenly unlocked.

Bucky panicked and froze when the door burst open and an overly excited looking man burst into the room.

"Rogers! Where you at, man? Stark just sent over my new flight suit. I wanna test this baby out, so whenever you're ready we can start looking for the soviet popsicle."

"Who?"                                           

Sam made an embarrassingly high-pitched noise and jumped back, clutching the corner of the wall he'd just come around. The Winter Soldier was standing in middle of Steve’s living room holding one of his - unsurprisingly patriotic - red, white and blue mugs. The Russian assassin was wearing comfortable sweats and looking all together non-threatening. Still, Sam was patting himself down looking for a weapon when Steve appeared with a towel.

"Hey, Sam,” Steve greeted, having just come out of the shower. He’d heard the door open thought it best to cut it short. He knew it had to be Sam, Steve had given his friend a key after he’d been kind enough to house him and Natasha. The key was supposed to be for emergencies, but Sam’s definition of ‘emergency’ was pretty broad.

As soon as he had let Bucky into his home, Steve knew that he had to deal with the awkward introductions at some point, but he’d hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. For a few blissful hours, he had thought that he and Bucky could just work through everything that had happened to them together. He almost forgot that there was a real world beyond the two of them.

"Hey, Cap?" Sam said, drawing Steve out of his thoughts. There was a bit of a tremor in Sam’s voice so Steve did his best to assure his friend that everything was okay by remaining calm.

"Yeah, Sam?"

Sam took in how unruffled Steve was and frowned. He turned his gaze back to the unassuming former soviet spy who was staring right back at him, sipping his tea with an eerily blank expression.

Sam shuddered. "Rogers, can I talk to you over in the kitchen for a sec," he asked, though declining wasn’t really an open option since Sam had already marched out of the living room.

"Sure thing." Steve looked back and forth between Bucky and Sam. He shrugged and followed Sam, saying a quick, “Be right back,” to Bucky as they left.

Bucky just stared after them. Even though he was quite a lean man in over sized sweats holding a cheap souvenir mug, he was able to make sipping tea look ominous.

✪

Sam barely contained himself long enough to reach the kitchen. As soon as they past through the archway, he burst.

"With all due respect, Cap, what the hell?!"

"I know this looks odd,” Steve started, gesturing for Sam to keep his voice down as the other man cut in to exclaim, “You’re damn right, it looks odd!”

Steve sighed. “He just showed up at my door looking for help. I’m taking him in."

Sam stared at him incredulously, shaking his head. He couldn’t believe he was going to have to repeat himself. "Steve, look, I told you already, he's not the type you save.”

“I know what you said, but I just- I have to try, Sam.”

Sam threw his hands up in the air and laughed humourlessly. “You’re crazy. You’re both crazy. You deserve each other.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, smirking at his friend. “Are you more upset that he’s here or that you aren’t going to get a chance to fly past me in your new that new suit Stark made today?”

Sam opened his mouth to protest, but his jaw snapped shut. He just wordlessly waved his finger at Steve and poked his naked chest a few times. He glared in a way that Steve couldn’t help but burst out laughing at.

“Whatever, man,” Sam cocked his head to one said, feigning annoyance. His umber eyes went narrow, but there was a little twinkle in them. “You just wait, Cap. Next time you’re doing your 50K around the mall, it’s gonna be me flying past saying-”

A monotonous voice interrupted him before he could finish.

“Are you starting dinner soon?”

“Jesus!” Sam shouted, nearly jumping out of his skin. “Could you not do that?”

Bucky didn’t reply. His expression remained calculatedly blank, but Steve could see there was a tiny spark of amusement in his eyes too. It made him smile.

“He didn’t mean it, Sam. Relax.” Steve patted his friend on the back.

Sam muttered something under his breath that sounded like it was supposed to be an imitation of Steve telling him to relax. His unease was more than understandable, but it made Steve chuckle.

“You staying for dinner?” he asked, smiling because he already knew the answer.

Sam looked warily between Bucky and Steve. “Nah, man. I’ll pass,” he said, already moving warily towards the front door not taking his eyes off Bucky. “But I’ll drop by tomorrow just to, uh, make sure everything’s alright.”

“Okay,” Steve patted Sam on the back again as his friend made his way towards the door. “See you tomorrow then.”

“Bye, Sam,” Bucky said. He was just being polite, but his eyes dark under his brow as were narrow. Watching Sam, he took yet another sip of tea.

Sam blinked, shook his head and closed the door heavily behind him.

Steve watched his friend leave. “He’ll be fine,” he sighed, thoughtfully.

His quiet moment was ended by a low growling coming from behind him. Steve spun around and shot Bucky an odd look. His friend was looking down at himself as if he was confused as to where the sound had come from.

“Your stomach,” Steve clarified, “It’s your stomach. Geez, Buck. When’s the last time you ate?”

“Approximately thirty six hours ago,” came Bucky’s automatic reply. He seemed genuinely curious about the fact that Steve cared.

Steve just shook his head, perplexed.

“Are you serious? Right, well, I’m going to go put some clothes on and then we’re going to get some food in you.” He changed quickly and without another word, set about making them both a hardy dinner.

Bucky watched him work with a similarly baffled expression, his brows arching.

He was hungry and someone cared.

★

What Steve prepared for them could only be described as a feast. He’d boiled pasted, made a white sauce, put chicken in the oven, steamed vegetables and finally heated up some garlic bread. Bucky couldn’t remember ever having so much food set before him, made just for him.

Steve watched Bucky, making sure he ate and he took in his friend’s changed appearance as he did so. Bucky had turned up at his doorstep ragged with what was practically a fully beard, but had shaved it clean off while in the shower. Even clean-shaven, he was still looking a bit rough, especially with that hair of his.

“I noticed you got rid of the beard,” Steve opened, waving vague towards Bucky’s face with his fork. “Do you want a hair cut too? I know a good barber. He’s actually mister Harold’s grand son. Family still owns the place. Do you remember them at all?”

Bucky’s response was to shoot Steve a narrow glare.

“No,” he said, tightly. “And no haircut.”

“Hey, it was just a suggestion.” Steve raised his hands, yielding. Personally, he had zero qualms with Bucky’s long hair. It sort of... suited him.

“I don’t want anyone touching me,” Bucky continued, feeling the need to explain his standpoint. “After HYDRA, I- I just don’t want anyone touching me. I don’t trust anyone.”

After that, he looked down at his plate and said no more.

Steve took a deep breath and nodded. Looking down at his own plate, he started playing with his food, suddenly not feeling hungry. He swallowed and bit his lips before speaking up again.

“You trust me, Buck?” he asked.

Bucky paused for only a brief second before replying, “There are always exceptions.”

Steve’s head shot up. Even though Bucky remained completely deadpan, Steve swore he could see the corner of his friend’s lips twitch.

Steve smiled back and they ate dinner. Their discussion turned to more amicable topics. They started planning what they were going to do that evening.

After dinner, they sat together on the couch and Steve showed Bucky his list. It was no surprise that Bucky hadn’t heard of most of the things on his list either. Down time for super soldiers to sit on the couch and watch sitcoms wasn’t exactly a prime concern for HYDRA.

Many items on it were popular TV shows and films, so they ended up marathoning ‘I Love Lucy’. They watched the show well into the morning hours. Steve laughed out loud, Bucky would let out an amused sort of huff every once in a while, his expression a bit softer than usual. They fell asleep together in the living room with the show still playing in the background.

Just like old times.

✪

Steve woke sometime around noon curled up against the arm of the sofa with a big smile on his face. The room was filled with the upbeat sound of the ‘I Love Lucy’ theme music.

Already wide awake, Bucky was sitting up next to him holding the controller and clicking through the DVD’s menus, trying to figure out which episode they had been watching when they’d fallen asleep. He muttered a curt good morning to Steve without taking his eyes off the screen.

Steve chuckled at that and got up. He stretched his arms, watching Bucky the whole time. His friend was practically hypnotized by the television set.

“You want breakfast?” Steve asked, cocking his head to one side as if leaning more into Bucky’s line of sight would make him look up.

“Breakfast. Yes,” Bucky droned, still not looking away from the show on screen.

Steve shook his head, but his disbelief didn’t stop him from smiling. He went into the kitchen and started preparing their morning meal. It was the sweet smell of the batter frying in the iron that drew Bucky out of his trance and got him off the couch.

“You approve?” Steve asked, setting a small stack of waffles on the table for the two of them to share.

Bucky just nodded vigorously. His face was placid, but eyes lit up.

Steve’s mother had often said a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. At the thought of her, Steve face split into a pleased smile that shone only for a second. Surprise took over when his front doorbell rang. They both jumped at the sudden sound.

“I’ll go see who that is. You can get started here.” Bucky really didn’t need the invitation, he was already at the table putting waffles on his plate.

Steve moved to the front door, looking through the eyehole before opening it. He couldn’t see much. Whoever was out there was standing a bit out of sight, but a head of red hair was the only identifier he needed.

Steve opened the door.

“Natasha?”

"Hey, Steve," Natasha greeted, deadpan. Her eyes were not-so-subtly engrossed by the space over his shoulder. She was peering into his home, searching for something.

Steve leaned against his door, blocking her view and forcing her eyes on him. He frowned down at her, but not in anger. "I thought you were, well, gone," he said.

"Nope. Hey, I got a call from Sam. He wanted me to check up on you."

"Sam?” Steve’s brow creased further. “Sam called you? What are you two, best friends now?"

Natasha smiled, a smile Steve recognized from back when they were at the mall avoiding Rumlow and his team. "Don't act dumb,” she said in an abnormally light tone, “We've been going out for weeks."

“You and Sam?” Steve was a bit taken aback. "Seriously?"

Instantly, Natasha’s expression went back to her standard mask. She smirked.

"What did I just say about acting dumb?" She pushed past Steve on her way into his house, leaving him standing at the door with no answers whatsoever.

With an annoyed huff, Steve closed his front door and followed behind her. If she’d had a chat with Sam, Steve knew exactly who she was looking for. Apprehensive about what would happen next, he picked up his shield from where it was leaning against the wall and held onto it just in case.

Natasha strutted down the hall. However, her cool mien broke when she first saw Bucky, she froze and took a deep, shuddering breath. She repressed the urge fight or run upon seeing the killer again. Last time they met she’d been left bleeding with punctured intestines.

Needless to say, Natasha was not looking for a repeat of those events.

But, in all honesty, it was difficult to reconcile the man before her with the Winter Soldier.

“Is he eating waffles?” Natasha whispered to Steve.

“Yeah, do you want some?” he replied, whispering as well for some unknown reason.

Natasha just looked at him like he was insane.

Bucky heard this piece of their conversation and looked over at the new guest. His eyes met Natasha’s and his gaze went cold.

Natasha took a hesitant step forward.

"Hi there," she said in her soft but notably husky tone. "Nice to meet you."

"We've met before," came a dark reply. “I had a mission. You got in the way.”

Natasha sucked in a breath, but she stood her ground.

With a frown creasing his brow Steve moved to step in. Bucky caught the movement over his shoulder and a switch seemed to flick in his mind. His face pinched and he jerked his head, shaking that intrusive part of himself away.

"Sorry," he said. "We haven't met properly. Bucky."

"Natasha."

Natasha looked over her shoulder back towards Steve. There was a glimmer of mischief in her eye, then she smiled cheekily.

Steve didn’t like that look. He opened his mouth, about to protest whatever it was that she was planning to do, but he wasn’t quite fast enough.

Natasha then turned back to Bucky, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Хочешь посмотреть фильм?”

Steve inhaled sharply, recognizing the language.

Russian. That first time Bucky had flipped out into soldier mode his outburst had been in Russian. Steve was worried the language would trigger something.

He waited, shield at the ready.

Bucky stared at Natasha, his eyes cold and void of emotion.

"Да," he replied.

This blunt reply did little calm Steve. To him, the conversation sounded very serious, but then Natasha exclaimed,

"Хорошо!"

"Wait," Steve cut in when both of them got the same unperceivable smirk on their faces. "What did you say to him?”

"I asked if he wanted to watch a movie. God, Steve, chill out.” Natasha tossed her hair and headed for the front door. “I'm going to grab one from my place, no one wants to watch your lame collection black and white silent movies."

"Hey, I'll have you know-!"

Natasha cut him off, snorting dismissively. "I'll grab Sam on my way. Movie night with the Winter Solider, oh my god, this is going to be fun I'm so excited," she said in her usual throaty monotone.

Before Steve could ask what she meant by that, Natasha was out the door.

"Your friends are weird."

Steve turned to see Bucky standing right behind him. With an amused huff, Steve leaned into him and bumped their shoulders together.

"Well you're my friend, what does that say about you?" he retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

Bucky smiled, a broken thing. He wondered back over to the couch and fell back against it.

"I'm pretty weird too," he sighed.

"Yeah, you are." Steve walked over and sat down as well. Smirking, he nudged Bucky with one elbow, partly being playful, and partly testing the waters.

Bucky just chuckled quietly.

"Punk."

Steve cocked his head to one side, taken aback. He pulled away from Bucky and stared at him. For a second, he wondered if he had misheard that.

His face still soft, Bucky raise his brows wondering why Steve was looking so shocked. That look quickly faded. Steve returned his gaze with a smile. He leaned against Bucky and wrapped an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders.

"Jerk."

★

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You kudos put on an awesome Russian movie.  
> Your comments help Sam calm the fuck down.
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://itsanidiom.tumblr.com/).
> 
>  **Russian Translations (Courtesy of my lovely friend Emiliya):**  
>  Do you want to watch a movie?  
> Yes.  
> Great!


	3. Up All Night to Watch Movies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys. Cock is mentioned. Time to up the rating!!

★

They’d shifted a little, but Steve was still sitting with one arm around Bucky an hour or so later when the front door opened and closed. Neither of them noticed; Steve was too busy trying to explain why Ethel was his favourite character in ‘I Love Lucy’ and Bucky was too busy simply not caring.

“Alright! Break it up, you two. The party has arrived!” Sam exclaimed as he burst into the living room to find Steve and Bucky watching some old black and white sitcom. Natasha followed behind him, shaking her head at his antics.

Bucky’s eyes shifted over to the two that had just entered the room only briefly before turning back to the TV.

“I don’t see how that’s a party,” he murmured quietly, more to himself than to anyone in particular. They hadn’t even brought balloons or anything.

Steve chuckled and turned in his seat, placing one arm over the back of the couch as his friends walked in. Sam was tailed closely by Natasha who was holding a DVD case in one hand. Steve looked back and fourth between the two of them and saw nothing out of the ordinary, but he had to ask.

“Hey, are you two dating now?” he said, hoping to get a straight answer from Sam.

“Hell yeah!” the flyer exclaimed comically, even as Natasha rolled her eyes.

“God. It was a joke, Steve,” she said at the exact same time.

Sam clutched his chest in a mock spectacle of pain and the three of them laughed.

Bucky turned and leaned over the back of the couch, mimicking Steve. He watched Steve and his friend’s interactions, but was not really sure how to join in.

Suddenly, Bucky’s face contorted into a frown. Something important had not happened. For a second he waited unobtrusively and eventually Natasha made eye contact with him.

Natasha put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side. She didn’t say anything, instead she simply waited as well, wondering what it was that that Bucky had on his mind as he focused her with his obscure gaze.

Once he had Natasha’s attention, Bucky cleared his throat. “Хотите чаю?”

“Конечно!” she said, with a wide grin.

Upon receiving that affirmation, Bucky nodded. A moment later he hopped up from the couch.

“What are they doing?” Sam wondered as the two left the room. He turned to Steve. “What’s happening?”

Steve shrugged. “I heard something about chai? It means ‘tea’ in Russian.”

“Tea?”

“They’re obsessed with it. I think it’s a cultural hospitality thing.”

“Right,” Sam drawled. He sat next to Steve and raised a single brow at his friend. “So, you still haven’t given me all the details here. About, popsicle.”

Steve blinked, utterly confused. “Popsicle?”

“Soulja boy?”

“What?”

“Come on, man.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Your friend.”

Steve frowned, disapprovingly. “His name’s Bucky, Sam,” he stated in a terse tone of voice. “He’s confused enough about that, let’s not compound the issue with name-calling.”

Sam flushed. Feeling a bit embarrassed, he rubbed his own arm and pursed his lips. After sitting quietly for a second, he let out a heavy breath.

“Sorry, Steve.” He was sincere in his apology. Steve appreciated it and gave an affirming nod.

“But now could you tell me what happened?” Sam asked again, after the tension between them had died down. “I mean, come on man. I was all set to chase this guy down with you and now he’s just shown up?”

Steve leaned his head back against the sofa. Really, he did sort of owe it to Sam. So, with a heavy heart, he told his friend everything, from Bucky turning up soaked and looking like an abandoned kitten on his front doorstep to that moment when he’d lashed out and the subsequent road towards recovery.

“To be perfectly honest, the past twenty-four hours have been a bit of a blur,” Steve admitted as he finished speaking.

“Wow,” Sam said under his breath. “But at least he seems to be getting better?”

In response, Steve let out an half-contented huff. “I think so. He’s remembering things.” 

“That’s pretty quick. You’d make a good therapist.”

Steve rolled his head to look at Sam. “You really think so?”

“Sure, Cap. Why not add ‘Doctor’ to your list of titles.”

“Doctor Steve Rogers does have a sort of ring to it.”

“Yeah it does.”

Steve and Sam were in stiches by the time the other two had finished whatever they were doing in the kitchen. Still laughing a bit, they forced themselves to calm down once Natasha and Bucky came back into the room.

Natasha was saying something to Bucky in Russian, and he was nodding. It was clear he understood, but he seemed a bit more focused on nursing the cup of tea in his hands than responding.

They walked into the living room and Bucky came to a halt in front of the TV. He had been planning to sit next to Steve again, but arrived to find that his spot had been taken. Steve and Sam were sitting close together, with Steve on the end of the couch. Natasha had placed her cup on the end table near the opposite edge of the couch, which suggested she would be sitting there. This left Bucky right in the middle.

Upon realizing that the only place for him that evening was going to be between Sam and Natasha, Bucky tensed. He cast a worried glance towards Steve, but the other man was too busy snickering at something Sam had said to take any notice of Bucky’s distress.

"Hey man, where's my tea?" Sam demanded all of a sudden, not helping the situation at all. His shout caused Bucky to jump.

Bucky's eyes went wide for a split second. He looked down at the cup in his hands and then back up at Sam, trying to figure the other man out. Was he in trouble? Was Sam mad?

"I-" Bucky choked out uneasily.

Before he could even start, Sam let out a hearty laugh. "I'm just messing with you."

A wave of relief washed over Bucky. Steve on the other hand was not amused. The smile that had stretched across his face only moments before was gone.

"Sam," he warned gently.

"Sorry!” Sam was quick to apologize, pulling an awkward face. “I can't help it. I was just joking, man. I don't even like tea."

"It's alright," Bucky muttered in reply.

Natasha rolled her eyes at the drama going on behind her as she slipped the DVD into the player. She picked up the remote on her way back to her seat and pressed a few buttons, starting up the film.

Sam noticed that Bucky was still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room and shook his head, laughing. With a heavy hand, he patted the spot next to him on the couch.

"Don't be shy, sit down!"

Bucky did as he was ordered immediately. He avoided looking at Sam even as he took up a seat on the couch right next to him. Again Steve took notice of the odd dynamic.

"Sam," Steve repeated. His tone was the same as before but his voice was hushed this time so that only he and Sam could hear it.

"Be nice."

"I am nice," Sam replied, in a similarly low volume.

"Be nicer."

“What do you want me to do? Order him a pizza or something,” Sam asked, his tone laced heavily with sarcasm.

Steve looked up thoughtfully. It wasn’t actually a bad idea.

✪

A few minutes into the film the pizza arrived. It really added that last extra something to make their movie night official.

It only took a few scenes for Sam and Steve to come to the conclusion that Natasha had really a bizarre taste in movies. She had brought over some Russian vampire movie called ‘Night Watch’. She swore it was great, but Sam and Steve were both left confused and slightly perturbed throughout the film, especially every time this weird creepy baby-doll-toy-spider thing showed up and wondered around eerily in the foreground of certain scenes. However, despite the strangeness of the film, Bucky enjoyed himself.

Once the end credits started to roll, Sam was left stunned. He just stared at the TV, looking a bit blank in the face as he wondered, ‘What the hell did I just watch?’

After the movie, Natasha spoke to Bucky in Russian. She chattered away about differences between the book and the film and which parts she liked the best. Bucky’s responses were curt, sometimes just tiny nods.

Steve listened to the two of them talk, leaning forward and watching Bucky and Natasha chat even though he didn’t understand a word of what they were saying. Natasha spoke fluidly, seeming to have an entirely different persona in her native language, but Steve was more focused on Bucky. After Bucky had shouted at him in Russian, Steve had been a bit fearful, but now each time a set of clustered consonants rolled so easily off his friend’s tongue, Steve found himself yearning to hear more.

There was an odd instant when Natasha seemed to switch the topic of discussion quite suddenly. She gestured to Bucky’s face and said something to which he simply replied, “Нет”. A second later, Natasha pulled a hair tie from her wrist. She demonstrated its elasticity to Bucky in one hand before tying her own hair up into a bun.

Bucky watched, nodding curiously.

Smiling, Natasha undid the bun and carefully dropped the hair tie into Bucky’s metal hand without touching him.

“What are you doing?” Sam wondered aloud, having finally snapped out of his trance. He and Steve had been watching the whole event with vague interest.

Natasha glowered at him over Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m helping.”

“Right,” Sam drawled. He turned his back on her then to look at Steve, drawing his friend’s attention. “So what exactly was that ending, man?” he exclaimed.

As Sam and Steve started to debate about the convoluted arc of plot, Natasha refocused her attention on Bucky.

“So, did you like the movie?” she asked him, switching back to Russian. Natasha hadn’t realized how much she’d missed speaking in her native language. Sure, she had to do it on missions all the time, but what she’d missed was small talk. Just a conversation between friends.

Bucky exhaled slowly. His favourite part had been when one of the creatures had turned to stone and its head had been smashed open against a sink. He wanted to express that, but due to the violent nature of the scene and his own shared past with Natasha, he decided against it.

Bucky bit his lip and instead tentatively replied, “It was interesting.”

Natasha smirked at that. “That’s usually what people say when they don’t really like something.”

“Oh.” Bucky squinted, confused. But he had found it interesting. Why would he say one thing if he meant another?

“Well, I liked it,” he clarified. “It was... strange.”’

“Scary?”

Bucky just stared at Natasha incredulously. As if there was any horror movie that could compare to what he’d been through in real life. The mesh of fantasy and reality made it a bit easier to disconnect, but since the war broke out all those decades ago, nothing in Bucky’s life had truly conformed to any standard of realism.

Natasha watched the various micro emotions filter across Bucky’s face. She knew well how to read them since they were so like her own.

“You know, the soviets made a lot of people do a lot of really bad things,” she uttered. Her eyes met with Bucky’s as he looked up, the arch in his brow told Natasha she was getting through to someone still buried deep inside him.

“When bad people make us do bad things, it’s not our fault.”

Bucky blinked at Natasha then looked down at the hair tie she had given him that was still resting in his palm. He closed his hand around it and stood from the couch.  Worried, Natasha was about to open her mouth to apologies for whatever she’s said to offend him, but then Bucky started twisting the ends of his hair together. He secured the dark strangs up into a messy bun, as if he wore it like that every day.

“Excuse me,” he said. With that, he calmly removed himself to the bathroom.

As Bucky rushed past him, Steve turned. He watched his friend lock himself up in the other room. Once the door closed, his eyes immediately locked onto Natasha, suspicious.

“What did you say to him?” Steve demanded in a quiet voice so that Bucky wouldn’t hear.

Natasha pointed at herself and put on an innocent face. She pouted and shrugged.

There was a long silence as the two of them stared each other down. It was only broken by Sam loudly clearing his throat.

“Hey, we should probably get going. I’m hosting a late night veterans meeting tonight. Need to get a few things put together still,” he said as he stood from the couch.

Letting out a heavy breath, Steve nodded. “I’ll show you guys out,” he replied.

No one said a word. The house was abnormally quiet as they made their way to the door. So Sam turned to look at Natasha, probingly.

“So, ‘tasha, were you just amusing yourself, making us watch that,” Sam asked, subtly adding, “whatever that was,” under his breath.

“You are so oblivious.” Natasha rolled her eyes, not dignifying either of the men with her gaze as she responded while pulling on her shoes. “We just watched an extremely violent action movie entirely in Russian and Bucky didn’t go all Winter Soldiery on us. I was experimented and my experiment was a success.”

Steve frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “So this was all some sort of test? Were you just gauging his reactions this entire time?”

“Earlier, you seemed scared of pulling one of his triggers,” Natasha replied with a shrug. “Now at least you know they have nothing to do with language and violence. Like I said before, I’m helping.”

“That’s some tricky mind game shit,” Sam muttered, unsure of whether he approved or not.

Steve was left speechless.

He didn’t like Natasha’s slightly underhanded methods, nor did he like that she’d used a friendly get-together for false pretences. However, he had to admit, he wasn’t as worried about Bucky going off like an atomic bomb as he had been even hours before. The Russian language in and of itself was obviously not any sort of prompt for the Winter Soldier and that was a relief.

“Well,” Steve started tentatively, “thank you, Natasha.”

“You’re welcome.” Natasha smiled, pleased that everything had gone according to plan.

She liked helping.

As the tension alleviated, Steve sighed. “Well, it was great having you over. Both of you, I meant it,” he said with a genuine smile. “I’ll see you again soon?”

Sam’s expression softened and he pulled Steve into an embrace. “Yeah. And try not to worry too much.” He patted Steve’s back. “Bucky’ll be fine. You Brooklyn boys are tough as hell.”

Steve returned the hug, chuckling slightly. “Thanks Sam.”

“No problem, but hey, you better make some time for me and my new super suit.”

“How could I not!”

Sam laughed and stepped out the door with a short wave.

Natasha followed Sam out saying a gentle, “See ya, Rogers.”

“That’s it?” Steve huffed out a laugh. “Not a single bit of matchmaking advice tonight?”

Natasha paused and turned to him with a little smirk. "I was under the impression that you'd found someone who fit your criteria."

Before Steve could reply, Natasha winked and followed Sam down the stairs.

Steve closed the door behind them, feeling a bit confused. Criteria? When had he given Natasha any sort of-?

Similar life experiences. Right. Steve had said something along those lines, hadn’t he.

★

After closing the door behind Natasha and Sam, Steve went to check up on Bucky. The other man was still locked up in the bathroom, but upon hearing the front door shut he opened the door and stepped out.

“Sorry,” Bucky murmured, looking down at the floor as he stepped out of the bathroom. “I needed a second.”

Steve shook his head. “Don’t apologize for that. Being around people can be overwhelming. It takes a lot out of you, especially when you haven’t socialized for-“ he paused to wince “-a long time.”

Bucky nodded his head. Letting his chin rest on his chest, he closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

Steve couldn’t help but notice how tired his friend looked. There were dark reddish circles under Bucky’s eyes. Especially now that his hair was up and no longer concealing most of his face, Bucky’s sunken, wan and sleep-deprived features were unmistakable.

“You know, you don’t have to sleep on the couch.” Steve started, worried by his friend’s appearance. Even super soldiers needed a good nights rest. “We both know from last night that it’s not the least bit comfortable. I have a king sized bed in my room. We could share like we used to.”

Bucky looked up at him with tired but surprised blue eyes. He stared at Steve with an interested expression that made the Captain blush furiously.

“I mean, we couldn’t afford an apartment with two rooms, never mind affording two beds to go in it,” Steve explained quickly. “No one really thought anything of it back then. Besides, we lived in _that_ part of Brooklyn, you know.”

Bucky didn’t know. He opened his mouth to speculate, but decided against it at the last minute. With letting out a huff of air, he just nodded and replied to Steve’s suggestion with a curt, “Okay.”

Steve led Bucky to his bedroom and set about collecting another set of clothes for him to wear for the night. Bucky was slower to change, having to work around his metal arm, which moved efficiently but often caught on the soft fabric of Steve’s hoodie.

Steve quickly pulled on a white undershirt and some flannel pants. Once changed, he sat on the edge of the bed and watched Bucky strip for a second until a hot flash crept up his body. Embarrassed, he looked away and covered his mouth with one hand, realizing that he shouldn’t have been looking in the first place. Immediately, he felt like a complete pervert.

Bucky finished changing and caught him looking out of sorts. “Steve?” he inquired, wondering why the other man was suddenly so red in the face.

Steve cleared his throat and climbed under the covers. “Mind switching the light off?” he asked as he turned away from Bucky to conceal his flushed skin. He let out a sigh, relieved once the room was filled with darkness.

Steve closed his eyes and muttered a quick, “Goodnight” and Bucky replied in turn. The mattress shifted as the other man climbed into bed.

Steve tried to control his irregularly fast heartbeat as Bucky made himself comfortable in the bed next to him. All was still for a while, then something press between Steve’s shoulder blades. A sensation of warmth radiated from that point of contact and Steve had to repress the tremor of pleasure his body was trying to send through him. He pinched his eyes shut tight and pretended to already be nodding off when really he was wide awake.

Behind Steve, Bucky had pressed his forehead against the wall of muscle that made up the other man’s back. He wasn’t sure why he’d done it. He’d wanted to. It just felt right.

Bucky closed his eyes and, for the first time in as long as he could remember, he fell asleep soundly.

✪

After a long night of restless sleep, Steve woke far too early in the morning. Feeling overly warm and a bit delirious, he thought he was still dreaming. There was another person in bed with him, conjured by his sleeping mind. The form he was clutching radiated heat.

Still half asleep, Steve gently rolled his hips forward, pressing against the warm body he was wrapped around. He inhaled a familiar yet unidentifiable scent and his hips twitched forward. He pressed against the softness in front of him so that all that separated his cock from that glorious warmth was the thin layer of cotton that made up his pants. The soft form moved back against him causing a jolt of heat and tightness to spread up through Steve’s lower abdomen.

Steve let out a soft moan and wrapped his arm around the form in front of him. His bicep rested against a strange covered hardness as one hand moved around. He caressed a flat, muscled chest, brushing one sensitive nipple causing it to rise and harden before his fingers moved down to run across a concave stomach.

Still thrusting his hips gently, Steve pressed his face into the crook of a long neck and inhaled again. That scent was all-too-familiar and, in a jolting moment of realization, he was wide awake.

Steve opened his eyes just as Bucky rolled over onto his back.

Bucky let out a soft sigh. His thankfully sleeping face was about a half centimeter from Steve’s.

Surprised, Steve almost jerked back a bit, but instead he held his breath and inched away from Bucky, slowly so as not to wake him. Steve rubbed his face with his hands, reeling from the guilt of having virtually molested Bucky in his sleep. He mentally thanked god that his old friend was still fast asleep. In fact, looking over he saw Bucky seemed better rested than he ever had since showing up on Steve’s doorstep.

With a haggard sigh, Steve sat up and leaned back against his headboard and the pillows piled against it. He watched Bucky sleeping peacefully for a while, taking in his friend’s picturesque features. Bucky had always been handsome, every doll in Brooklyn would have killed for him to take her out dancing. He was still striking, even with that dark mangy hair framing his features.

Steve reached to move some of Bucky’s hair off his face, but snatched his hand back at the last second. Shaking his head, wondering what had gotten into him, Steve instead grasped his drawing pad and a pencil from the bedside table. He kept it there because some nights he would wake, inspired by a dream he didn’t want to forget.

The book was filled with beautiful dreamlike images, but there was still a little space for more.

★

Bucky woke to the scratching sound of graphite on paper. His eyes fluttered. The blue of them was dull and sort of glazed after such a deep, full-nights rest. 

Bucky looked up at Steve, seeing the man deeply absorbed with his face only a few centimetres from the page he was working on.

"What are you doing?" Bucky asked, his voice raspy from disuse.

"Nothing!" Steve immediately closed his sketch book and turned to greet Bucky with the most innocent smile.

Bucky chuckled sleepily and Steve’s heart missed a beat. It was the first time he had heard that sound in going on seventy years.

Bucky whispered, "You've always been the best drawer," before closing his eyes once more.

Steve blinked. Bucky remembered that? A great swell of pride flowed through Steve. He wanted to reply, but Bucky had already fallen back asleep. He must have been at least half-awake though, because he reached out with his right hand and touched Steve, seemingly just to get a tiny bit of human contact as he had wanted the night before.

Steve smiled gently at that. Quietly, he placed his sketch pad on the bedside table and crawled back under the covers. At first he was hesitant. He bit his lips before inching forward. Carefully, he wrapped one arm around Bucky's waist and pulled him close.

"Wha'der you doing," Bucky muttered.

Steve sighed softly and closed his eyes. "I dunno," he replied. "Just feels right."

Bucky tried to look up, but all he could see was the long expanse of Steve's neck. Steve had him securely tucked against his chest, and he didn’t seem keen on letting go. Bucky tucked his head back down and melted into Steve’s hold even as his mind raced.

"Okay," Bucky whispered, content to remain like that until dawn broke. He reached to return Steve's embrace but stopped suddenly when he heard the soft electronic whirring his arm made when it moved. Quickly, before Steve noticed, he tucked it back down against his side and pretended to sleep. He was filled the want to reach out, to hold, to touch, but the feeling of want was mixed heavily with a fear of rejection.

He wanted to return a warm embrace, but all he had to offer was cold steel.

✪

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANGST! Ha! Okay. Thank you guys for sticking with me so far! (HOPEFULLY) I should be finished the last two chapters this week! I’m already planning a much less fluffy Stucky fic. Stick around.
> 
> Update (May 11th): I LIED I'M SORRY! I'll be finished on Monday (12) or Tuesday (13).
> 
>  
> 
> **Your kudos help Bucky sort out his hair.  
> **  
>  **Your comments help Steve deal with his somnophilia kink.**
> 
>  
> 
>  **Russian Translations** (Courtesy of my lovely friend Emiliya):  
>  Would you like some tea?  
> Of course!  
> No.
> 
>  
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://itsanidiom.tumblr.com/).


	4. Mechanical Failure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Coulson is going to make a little appearance in the last chapter (Chapter 5)! I haven’t really been watching Marvel Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. so the part that I keep seeing on Tumblr where all the avengers still think he’s dead is not a thing in this. Let’s pretend everyone knows he’s alive after the Avengers movie. Just for funsies.
> 
> Just wanted to put this out there ahead of time to see if anyone has any commentary on this plan.
> 
> But in any case, ENJOY CHAPTER 4!

✪

Steve and Bucky started sleeping together every night after that. Sometimes Bucky would face away, lying on his metal arm in a way that Steve noticed and knew couldn’t have been comfortable. He never said anything about it. Those nights he just spooned behind Bucky, pressing his lips to the crown of Bucky’s head. Every evening when they slipped under the covers, Steve would hold Bucky close to him until they both drifted off to sleep, as if he feared that Bucky would turn to smoke in his arms and vanish into thin air.

They didn’t do anything more than that hold each other, they didn’t even discuss it. Neither of them was ready for that.

Steve wondered if he ever would be. It had been so long, but, like Bucky, he was recovering a lot of memories that had faded over time. The memories were compounded into feelings he had been harbouring for a long while, feelings he recognized when he and Bucky climbed into bed together every night. The most overwhelming was a sense that he was missing out on something.

There was something more to be had, something that they both needed desperately, but even when they were kids back in Brooklyn, neither of them had been able to take that last much needed step towards that uncertain something. Whether it was the fear or society or rejection, it didn’t really matter because whatever it was it paralyzed them both into identical states of inaction. Thus, whatever ‘something’ was remained a mystery, banished to some unknown corner inside their minds, concealed between want and need.

A couple of days passed and one morning Steve was woken abruptly to find himself in bed alone. The sheets next to him was still warm, only recently thrown back and vacated. Steve ran his palm over them, feeling the residual heat. He closed his eyes unsure of what had roused him until the same sound woke him fully the second time around.

There was a crash from another room in the house. It was followed by a soft, but uneasy call of, “Steve.”

Bucky called his name from the kitchen in a tone that was quiet, but simultaneously cried out ‘help!’ It had Steve on his feet in seconds.

Steve ran out of the bedroom and down the short hall, skidding across the floor in his socks as he turned a corner too quickly.

“What is it? What happened?” He panted, stepping into the kitchen.

“Wait,” Bucky uttered, stopping Steve before he could step to far into the room.

It was dawn, so the morning sunlight hadn’t quite lit the small room. Since Bucky hadn’t turned on the lights either, it was fairly dark. Steve waited a second while his eyes adjusted, but before that he heard the soft sound of dripping.

Steve turned on the light.

The glass kettle was in pieces on the counter and around it Steve’s red, white and blue souvenir mug from the Smithsonian exhibit was in several pieces, scattered across the counter and the floor along with its liquid contents.

Bucky was hovering over the mess, clutching his metal arm. His eyes were wide, his brows arching sadly.

“I broke your cup,” he whispered, helplessly.

Mindful of the broken glass scattered across the floor, Steve approached Bucky, trying to get a better look at his arm. Something about the way he was holding it was strange.

Steve had to ask, “What’s wrong?”

Bucky curled in on himself, not releasing the odd grip he had on his own arm. It was then that Steve saw the problem. The metal hand was opening and closing sporadically, the fingers twitching as the steely tech jarred itself. The force of the metal had been more than enough to break the ceramic cup in its grasp.

Steve looked from Bucky’s arm into his friend’s scared blue eyes. “Are you doing that?” he asked, gently.

Bucky shook his head and simply responded, “Malfunctioning.”

There was a breath of silence between them. Steve reached out to get a better look at Bucky’s arm, but Bucky just clutched it closer to his chest and recoiled even further.

Steve was about to tell Bucky that he just wanted to help, but when Bucky tried to step away from him, Steve’ concern changed focus. He realized his friend was standing barefoot in a minefield of broken glass. Bucky’s feet were cut up something bad, but he didn’t seem to notice even as blood turned the spilled water red around him.

“Geez, Buck. Hold on a sec. Don’t move.”

Steve was instantly down the hall, grabbing two big towels from the bathroom. He threw the thing over the mess, pushing the mix of glass and water that was dispersed on the counter off into the pile on the floor. He grabbed another towel and used it to create a barrier over the floor between the glass, just until he had time to properly clean up the mess.

“Hop up,” Steve said, patting the countertop. “I need to look at your feet.”

They had to do it there. If Bucky had bits of glass stuck in his feet it wouldn’t do to lodge them in there further just to get to the bathroom.

Bucky looked down the reddish pool at his feet. “It’s fine,” he muttered.

Not taking that as an answer, Steve stared Bucky down and patted the countertop once more.

With a short sigh, Bucky hopped up onto the surface with his bare feet extended before him.

There was a medical kit on top of Steve’s fridge. It was a red box that sat next to a bottle of alcohol. Steve never bought rubbing alcohol, vodka was cheaper. Bucky seemed aghast at having the clear liquor poured over his feet, but he didn’t say anything, he just watched Steve work with a wide perplexed gaze.

Steve picked a couple pieces of broken glass out of Bucky’s right foot and then cautiously rubbed both of them, kneading gently to make sure there was no more and that the alcohol thoroughly cleaned the wounds. He searched through the med kit, found the bandages and began wrapping the cotton around Bucky’s cut-up feet.

“Okay, I think that should do it,” Steve said as he finished wrapping Bucky’s feet. Without even thinking about it, he took a hold of Bucky’s waist and lifted the smaller man off the counter.

Bucky blinked once he was settled back on the floor, then his face scrunched up into a wince. His feet really stung, he just hadn’t noticed in the direct aftermath of events.

With a scowl, Bucky glared at his arm and then down at the mess on the floor. He cursed the metal arm, clawing at it with his good hand as if that would do anything to it. There was still paint to be chipped off the shoulder, so he could be content with peeling that away and as he did he could feel a slightly painful pressure. That was enough.

Damn it. He hadn’t even gotten his tea.

Steve saw him upset and tried to smile reassuringly. As if reading Bucky’s mind he asked, “Would you like me to make you a cup of tea?”

Bucky looked up at Steve, then back down at his feet. He nodded solemnly.

“Alright, go sit down and put something on the TV. Try to relax. I’ll deal with this.”

“Okay,” Bucky whispered as he slinked out of the room.

Steve was too nice. Bucky felt awful.

Steve watched Bucky exit the kitchen. It pained him to see his friend walking with such light and tender steps. He turned from the sight and started opening cupboards. A cup of tea would definitely help cheer him up.

Steve had to boil water the old fashioned way, on the stove in a small pot. While the water heated up, he reached for his phone. There was really only one man he thought could trust enough with Bucky’s well being, especially given the tech related situation.

★

“Well now I know what it takes to get a call from Captain America. Just need to wait for the complete dissolution of a monumental government agency. How goes it, Rogers?”

Steve recoiled away from his phone, barely able to hear Tony’s voice over the shrill sound of metal being drilled into in the background of the man’s lab.

“Stark-?”

“I saw you on the news recently,” Tony cut in, before Steve got a chance to say his piece. “I think you destroyed tech that was worth the equivalent to the entire GDP of a small central African country. Well done. How are you planning on paying for that?”

“I- what?”

“Well S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t paying me anymore-“

“Stark-“

“Someone’s got to cover the costs.”

“Stark.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, then a chuckle.

“I’m just kidding,” Tony said. This was followed by a grating sound as the man slid something he was working on into place.

“New project?” Steve wondered upon hearing the noise.

Tony huffed. “Let’s skip the small talk, Rogers. I know you didn’t call me to ask about a my new projects. I want to hear about your new project.”

Steve sucked in a breath, wondering ‘does Stark already know?’

With a sigh, he decided honesty was the best policy, especially if Tony did already know. “My friend, he was captured by HYDRA. Now that they’ve been dealt with, I’m helping him get back on his feet, but his arm- They experimented on him and gave him this- this metal arm. It’s malfunctioning and I’m not sure what to do.” Steve let out a heavy breath as he finished.

“So that’s why I called.”

Tony hummed to himself.  “A friend with a metal arm, huh? I think I saw that guy on the news. And the patients name is-?”

“James Barnes.”

“Barnes. James Barnes,” Tony said in his worst impression of a certain double-0-agent. “Now why does that name sound familiar?”

Before Steve had a chance to explain, he heard Tony snap his fingers over the intercom. “Oh, I remember! Natasha uploaded that insane leak of S.H.I.E.L.D data. You friend James’ file was in there. Lots of Russian, but it didn’t take too long to translate the gist. Google’s great. Anyway, James Barnes goes by another name, doesn’t he. What was it again? The Winter Soldier?”

Immediately, Steve’s face contorted. Even though the other man was being snarky, Steve could practically feel waves Tony’s displeasure over the phone and he was sure Tony could feel his. No one had any right to pry into Bucky’s past.

Steve wanted to just hang up, but Tony’s uncannily monotonous voice cut off that train of though. “Now that that’s all out in the open, let’s be frank with each other. You want me to engineer a new arm for the guy who S.H.I.E.L.D. was about ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure is the one responsible for my parents deaths?”

 “I want you to engineer a new arm for my friend,” Steve retorted. “If that’s what that means, then yes.”

“Ah,” Tony cleared his throat. “Right, Rogers. Do you want me to turn your floor of the tower into a storage room?”

“Stark-“

“Look, I’m all up for a little bit of peace, love and understanding, but you’re stretching even my limits, pal.”

“Look, Stark, what do you want me from me?” At that point, Steve really was prepared to do anything.

Tony was quiet for an ominous second.

“I got roped into mingling at a children’s party. You do it.”

Mingling at a-? Steve blinked.

“That’s all?” he ask, trying to hide the happy disbelief from his tone.

“If that’s how you see it, yes, that’s all. Do we have a deal?” Tony chuckled with an air of malevolence that told Steve he probably didn’t really know what he was getting into with this particular group of kids.

Still, Steve didn’t hesitate to answer.

“I’ll do it.”

✪

Steve got off the phone with Tony just as the water in his pot came to a rolling boil. He set the handset on its receiver and went over to pull a mug out of the cupboard. He got one mug down and then, after a moments consideration, he pulled out a second.

Tea. He could give it a try.

Steve carefully observed Bucky making tea several times over the course of the week that he’d been staying in the apartment. Bucky liked it steeped for a few minutes, until it was nearing the colour of black coffee, then he took it with a little sugar, no milk or cream.

With a sense of accomplishment, Steve stepped around the towels on the floor and out of the kitchen. He joined Bucky on the couch, sitting heavily in such a way that Bucky bounced slightly on his side.

The small jolt snapped Bucky out of his thoughts. He looked up to see a blue cup with a white star painted in the middle that was hanging in front of his face. The deep aromatic scent of tea instantly filled him with a sense of calm.

Steve watched Bucky take the mug and sip contentedly.

“Did I do good?” he asked, with a teasing smile.

Bucky side eyed him for a second until he realized Steve was talking about the tea. Once it dawned on him, he couldn’t help the small upward curl of his lips as he looked into the cup.

After a short while he simply replied, “Yes.”

Steve nodded happily and leaned back on the couch. He sipped his own tea and was met with a flavour that both surprised and delighted him.

Steve tilted his head to one side, raising his brow. “Not bad.”

They sat together, just drinking in silence for a while. Steve looked over at Bucky thoughtfully, knowing that he’d have to bring up his plans for the day. He glanced down his friend’s arm and saw that his fingers were still twitching intermittently.

“Bucky, I made a call about your arm to Tony Stark.”

“Stark,” Bucky repeated, recognizing the name. “The inventor?”

Steve smiled and nodded. “He wants to meet with you today, this afternoon, just to take a look at the problem. He may be able to help, but you don’t have to say ‘yes’ if you don’t want to. It’s okay.”

“No,” Bucky replied quickly. “No. Yes. I’ll go.”

Worry crossed Steve’s mind, but he didn’t let Bucky see it filter across his face. It would be Bucky’s first time leaving the little sanctuary that was Steve’s apartment since he’d arrived. Steve could only hope the day’s events would pan out smoothly. 

★

“Captain,” Pepper Potts said as she opened the door to the penthouse of the Avengers Tower. Her gaze shifted from Steve to the nervous and deathly looking young man beside him.

“This must be James.”

With a nod, Steve urged Bucky forward into the apartment his gentlest smile. “Yes, ma’am. We’re here to see Stark.”

Pepper bit back a smirk at Steve’s overly polite and slightly out-dated address. “I know,” She replied. “You’re right on time. Tony is waiting for you both in his lab downstairs.”

Pepper led the Steve and Bucky down into the lower level of the penthouse where Tony’s lab was set up. The room was covered with half finished projects and debris from miscellaneous failures. At the bottom of the stairwell, Pepper stepped around Dum-E as the great lumbering robot worked at failing to sweep up some of the mess with a tiny dustpan.

“Your patient is here to see you, doctor,” Pepper called out over the hectic ambient noise that was always present in the lab. It was mixed with classic rock that Tony had playing at a decibel level just a few units lower than what could actually cause physical pain.

“Doctor? Haha, very funny,” Tony replied, gesturing for the volume to be adjusted down. He turned off the flame on the blowtorch he’d been using and turned to his guests. The odd look on the faces of his guests confused Tony for a second, before he realized that he was still wearing his ironman mask as a welding helmet.

He lifted it off his head and smirked.

“Thanks, Pepper. I’ll call you if I need anything.”

Pepper let out a derisive laugh, already halfway back up the stairs. “Actually, I’m going out for lunch.”

“But-“

“You boys have fun,” before Tony got a second chance to protest, Pepper had disappeared out of sight. A few seconds later, JARVIS announced evenly that she had left the building.

Tony just stared after her with a confused pout.

“Ah, Stark?” Steve interrupted his sulking, waving a little to gain Tony’s attention.

Tony feigned shock. “Hey, Captain. Didn’t see you there taking up half the room with your freaky muscular self.”

Steve just shook his head and walked further into the lab. As he and Bucky approached, Tony stood and clasped his hand in a friendly shake.

Tony then turned to look Bucky up and down, his eyes stopping to focus on the metal hand that peaked out from under the long sleeve of his shirt.

“So you must be-?”

“Ah, Bucky,” he replied. It pained Steve to hear him sound a bit unsure of himself. He hoped it was just the new setting and not a form of regression. 

“Huh.” Tony didn’t look up from that hand. Then, all of a sudden, he clapped his hands together, rubbing them excitedly.

“Right!” He announced. With a wave of his hand, he gestured to a work station that had been set up before they’d arrived. “Let’s get you in the chair and see what we’re working with.”

Stark’s chair was a metal contraption, much like a dentists chair, covered with black padding. As comfortable as the thing looked, Bucky was anxious to sit in it. He swallowed audibly, only moving towards the thing at Steve’s insistence.

“Everything’ll be fine, Buck,” he said, rubbing Bucky’s back reassuringly as he ushered him into the chair and helped him get his shirt off.

Tony peeked over, intrigued by the expanse of metalwork now on display. It was amazing, tech that he was sure could help him with the ironman project once he got a chance to dissect it.

Bucky closed his eyes as he leaned his head back against the seat. The room felt cold and familiar even though he knew he’d never been there before. Darkness was already starting to penetrate his thoughts, its thick black tendrils moving through his mind like vines in a murky wood.

A sound to Bucky’s left caused him to jump. His eyes snapped open and he turned his head.

Tony had rolled a strange metal ring on a stand over to the left side of the chair. With a deft ease, he lined it up with Bucky’s shoulder and pressed a few buttons, calibrating the strange machine.

“Arm,” Tony directed curtly.

Bucky looked back and forth between Tony and the strange ring. It took him a moment to clue in, then he put his arm through the ring. As his arm passed through the ring a thin laser of blue-green light passed over the metal and part of Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky watched with fascination. He turned to see if Steve was see it as well, but Steve was too focused on something else. Bucky followed his awestruck gaze over to Stark’s desk.

Something was processing, slowly loading. For a while individual pieces hung in midair, but soon an entire three-dimensional model appeared. The hologram hovered over the desk. Bucky recognized it as his own arm.

In the three-dimensional diagram, all the metal structures were outlined in blue, the wires appeared in green and finally the place where wires and metal met merged with nerve endings and skin was in red. Bucky was so busy staring at this amazing piece of technology that he didn’t even notice Tony moving the ring away from his arm. It was only went Steve patted his leg that Bucky realized he didn’t need to hold his arm out any longer.

“Right, so! Looks like some damage broke whatever waterproofing this thing used to have,” Tony murmured as moved back over to his desk looked at the schematics that JARVIS had grafted for him. “You’ve got a few circuits misfiring due to electrical damage in the wiring, but it looks like there may be a stress factor here as well. This thing is hooked up to your nervous system after all, stress could be a key factor.” Tony turned to Bucky then, feigning a serious look.

“Are you feeling stressed?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky replied nervously. “No?”

Tony gave a little shrug and turned back to his work. “Good,” He said casually. “Cause, despite what Pepper led you to believe, I’m not a doctor and the only one I know probably would be the best guy to help with any stress issues.”

Steve chucked and Tony looked back at him, raising a quizzical brow.

“Sorry,” Steve murmured. “It’s just- I understood that reference.”

Tony let out an exasperated breath. “Good for you, gold star, now let’s focus on your friend here.” He turned and rolled his chair over to his desk were the digitally mapped schematics of Bucky’s arm were hanging in the air waiting to be taken apart piece by piece.

Steve joined him at his side, leaning over the table to watch Tony work while the man rattled off a bunch of science lingo that he didn’t even bother trying to understand.

When Tony and Steve moved away, Bucky was left alone on the chair, looking around nervously. All the sophisticated equipment in the lab was making him uneasy. Various metal contraptions and tools hung above his head in a manner that was distantly familiar. It reminded him too much of his past. All the labs, set up and hidden away in basements and cellars in the same quick and jumbled way Stark had set this up.

"Steve."

Steve looked back over his shoulder, surprised to see Bucky trembling. Bucky’s chest heaved and his right arm was covering his eyes as he tried not to take in his surroundings.

"Buck?" Steve stepped away from Tony, moving back towards his friend. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

"Mister Barnes' heart rate is far above normal,” Jarvis chimed in above them. “Suggest direct measures be taken to calm him, sir."

Upon hearing that, Tony paused in what he’d been doing. "What's wrong with him?" he asked JARVIS, cocking his head to one side.

“Stress, sir.”

“Pft,” Tony waved that off and went back to work. “The kid said he was fine!”

Steve shook his head, unsure.

"Can we leave?" Bucky whispered, his voice wavering at the edges.

“Seriously? But you only just got here!” Tony cried, before Steve could respond.

Tony was already far too invested in this new project. He fiddled with the three-dimensional model of Bucky’s arm a bit more and pointed out a few key details.

"Look, here’s my prognosis. This is a good piece but some of the tech inside is old. It was obviously designed to be easily manipulated. So I see two options here. One, I can fix it up we’ve got here and get a polymer skin material to cover this soviet mess. Or, option two, we get rid of this arm altogether, wipe the drawing board and start from scratch."

Bucky felt his heartbeat stop in his chest as a chill washed over him. The words ‘wipe him’ echoed through him, vivid in his mind. He turned to Steve, desperation clear in his eyes.

“Please,” he begged again, trying his best to ignore Tony. The man didn’t let him.

Tony rolled back over to Bucky, leaning over his side, frowning down at him. “Hey, come on. If you’re freaking out, I could always give you a sedative while I work on-“

Bucky didn’t hear his words. When he removed his arm from his eyes to make eye contact with Tony and Steve, he found he could no longer see their faces clearly. His vision was a blur of past memories overlapping, all sitting on top of one another, clear but foggy like looking through several layers of misty glass.

All Bucky saw was a man, a man ready to knock him out, to freeze him, to ‘wipe him’. So, he lashed out as he had done so many times before in the same situation. His metal arm moved automatically, reaching for the throat of the man hovering over him. He squeezed until he could feel the rings of cartilage that protected that vital air passage yielding in his grasp and then he just squeezed harder.

Words from his past echoed through his mind, but this time his brain screamed in reply.

Not again. Not this time.

“Bucky!”

A voice broke through the layers of memory. The misty glass full of dark thoughts cracked and shattered, falling to pieces in Bucky’s mind as he was forced back on to the plane that was reality. He immediately let go of Tony’s throat, leaving marks behind that would quickly turn into blackish bruises.

“Imminent risk to personhood detected on the premises.” JARVIS’ smooth voice announced calmly above them. “Shall I launch threat prevention protocols, sir?”

“I’m fine, JARVIS,” Tony choked out. JARVIS’ silence held a none-to-subtle hint of robotic scepticism.

Steve looked between Tony and Bucky unsure of who’s aid he should go to.

His answer was given when Tony waved off his concerns. Dum-E had already rolled over awkwardly holding a dripping icepack. He’d probably punctured it, but would have to do.

“Buck?” Steve whispered, placing what he hoped was a calming hand over his friend’s metal one.

Confused, Bucky could not focus on the source of the sound. He looked around, wondering where he was. What had happened?

Then a hand touched him and he flinched, but didn’t lash out. He looked up.

“Steve?”

“Hey, pal. You’re okay.” Steve let out a heavy sigh, relief overwhelming him. He helped Bucky out of the chair, but he was shaking so violently he needed Steve for support lest his legs gave way out under him.

Bucky stood limp and exhausted, held in Steve’s arms. He bowed his head and closed his eyes.

He just wanted to go home.

Across the room, Tony placed the ice pack his throat, balancing it on his craning neck as he leaned back in his chair. He was still coughing hoarsely.

“You two should probably go,” he rasped out as best he could. “I think we’re done for the day.”

Even as he held Bucky, Steve looked at Tony with a high degree of concern. “Tony, I’m-“

Coughing again, Tony waved his words. “It’s fine. Accidents happen. I’ve been through worse. I’ll call you if anything important comes up.”

“But-“

“Rogers, you better not be trying to apologize to me. If you start apologizing for things I’m going to start holding you accountable for them.”

Steve let out thankful sigh. It was nice to know that while Tony might have hated the Winter Soldier, he wasn’t going to hold Bucky responsible for what had been done to him.

They didn’t say anything more as they left the apartment. Steve’s main priority was getting Bucky out of the space that had triggered his episode.

✪

Steve hailed a cab and took Bucky straight home after the events at the tower. Bucky’s mind wasn’t all back yet and he was eerily still, his gaze vacant. As they piled into the cab and drove home, the driver kept peering at him, his anxious eyes visible in the rear view mirror.

When they arrived back in the apartment, Bucky stumbled over to the couch leaving Steve rushing into the kitchen.

Steve thanked his past self for having the foresight to clean up the mess of broken glass and spillage from the shattered kettle. He got water boiling on the stove again and repeated the same procedure as he had that morning. The cupboards rattled, groaning at the force and speed at which he threw them open

Tea. That was a thing, right? Tea always made things better.

Once it was brewed, he hurried to the living room and to Bucky with what he hoped would be a liquid remedy. It seemed that theory was correct, when it came to Bucky at least. As soon as Steve placed the cup in Bucky’s hands, a good amount of his visible shaking ceased. Bucky’s breathing slowly evened out as he held the mug up to his face, inhaling the aroma. An atmosphere of tranquility soon began peaking through the tense air.

The change was almost immediate. Steve noticed and wanted to ask why, but he waited quietly for Bucky to finish his tea first. Once the mug was empty, Steve then took it from his calmed friend and set it aside.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Buck. Why does tea relax you so much?” Steve wondered.

Bucky’s head shot up. He looked at Steve, then beyond him, focusing on the mug that had been set aside. He was thoughtful for a moment, then the corner of his lips turned upwards. It seemed for a moment the day’s events were forgotten to make way for the recollection of happier times.

"There was a woman,” Bucky started, genuinely smiling at the memory. “A nurse. The one who took care of the parts of me that were still human. She would always work with a pot of tea at her side, and she would always bring an extra cup for me. She- I think she was the only one who-“ suddenly Bucky jerked and his expression going dark again. “Sorry, I don’t like thinking about her.”

Steve nodded, sympathetically. “What happened to her?”

Bucky looked back up at Steve. He smiled sadly.

“They ordered me to kill her.”

Silence feel between them as Steve inhaled sharply. Those damning words hung heavy in the air.

“Bucky?”

Bucky doubled over and clutched at his head, forcing himself to dig, to remember. “It was after the Soviets. She worked for Department X and then HYDRA came and they wanted the place-“ he swallowed “-cleared out.”

Steve took Bucky’s hands in his, just as he’d tried to do that first night. Bucky let him do it this time.

“You don’t have to do this,” Steve whispered. He pulled Bucky’s hands away from his face and was shocked to find that his friend’s eyes were tearing up.

“I do,” Bucky replied. His voice trembled. “I have to do it. I have to remember. I have to remember every one, every face, every person that I killed. I have to remember everything, because that’s the only way I’ll remember-“ he choked on the words, but Steve was just able to hear him whisper “you” before the tears began to fall.

As that first drop made its way down Bucky’s cheek, Steve realized he’d never seen Bucky cry. Not once. Not even after he’d gotten Bucky out of that POW camp all those long years ago. Not even when they lost their families, friends and comrades during the war.

Never.

Bucky had always been the strong one, that was their dynamic growing up. Steve was weak and Bucky was strong. There was never any resentment, it had always just worked for them, but it meant that Bucky could never be weak.

Steve could never see him brake. That’s how Bucky always saw it, so that’s how it always was.

Now though, overwhelmed by the wave of memory, guilt and emotion that came crashing down on him so suddenly, Bucky wept.

Steve tried to calm him, whispering soothing words as he held Bucky’s face in his hands. Bucky held his wrists while Steve stroked his thumbs over tearstained cheeks, as if he could wipe away all the pain even while it was still pouring out.

The ache burst and Steve pulled Bucky close. The heartbreaking sobbing got worse before it got better. Steve leaned Bucky back against the sofa, cuddling him in his arms, caressing his sides.  It didn’t take much for Steve to shift them both onto their sides with Bucky pressed between him and the back of the couch, safe and sheltered.

Steve ran his hands up and down Bucky’s spine, letting the smaller man burry himself into the crook of his neck as he cried.

When his sobs finally subsided, Bucky pulled away from Steve. He looked up at him, his eyes wet and rimmed red. He seemed embarrassed, and looked away down at Steve’s chest.

“I never wanted you to see me like this,” he whispered. His voice rough from crying, but his mind was alleviated by the newly resurfaced memory.

“I’m sorry.”

Steve didn’t respond to that. He just shook his head and leaned forward again. Taking a deep breath, he pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes. Bucky sighed into the embrace and let himself be pulled even closer, held and comforted.

They stayed like that for the rest of the night, neither of them paying any mind to the fact that they were still on Steve’s lumpy old couch. Eventually they drifted off to sleep, both absorbing the heat of the embrace, letting it warm them to their core.

★

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter was so plot and angst heavy. Just rejoice in the knowledge that smut cometh soon!
> 
> Now to alleviate some of your pain:
> 
>  
> 
> **Your kudos wake up and have gentle post angst morning sex.**  
>  **Your comments help Tony design a new bionic arm with ‘special features’.**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://itsanidiom.tumblr.com/).


	5. House Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a bit longer than normal. BUT it is the longest chapter and I split it into 3 parts (Chapter 5? more like Chapters 5, 6 and 7) omg Anyway it’s only like this because it included me writing the SMUT !
> 
> SO MUCH SMUT YAY FINALLY !
> 
> HOWEVER If you want to skip the smut it will be in “chapter 7”, so when you get there just scroll down to the next scene break when the porniness starts. 
> 
> ALSO in a day or two I will actually be posting an **epilogue**!! 
> 
> (So yes I definitely lied when I said there would be 5 chapters. LOL)
> 
> Other than that, enjoy the grand finale of ‘I Already Know’ my dear readers. (Long note, sorry again.)
> 
> ENJOY!

★

Steve and Bucky slept late into the next morning. Somehow they both felt equal parts well-rested and stiff from their second awkward sleep on Steve’s couch.

Steve stirred only because he’d nearly rolled off the edge. He opened his eyes to Bucky staring up at him through dark lashes. His eyes were hooded with exhaustion, but he seemed amused.

“Morning,” Steve chuckled as he came awake fully.

Bucky smiled. His voice was still hoarse with emotion and sleep when he replied, “Morning,” in return.

Steve had noticed, ever since that first time they woke together, Bucky was so much more himself first thing in the morning. It was as if his fatigue broke down the walls of his memory. His tone wasn’t rough with the burden of his accumulated guilt or confusion, rather it was the same light tenor that Steve recognized from years ago.

Bucky stretched against Steve’s front, but found his movements constrained. He looking around to see that he was stuck between a rock and a hard place, the rock being Steve’s crappy old couch and the hard place being Steve himself.

Bucky let out a sudden laugh at the thought that made Steve jump.

“I think you’re a bit big for us to be sharing the couch,” he said. His eyes were still closed as he smiled, but when they finally opened Steve saw a change in him.

All of the darkness had faded from his mien. His pupils were no longer dilated, so blue irises stood out, as they used to, bright and gleaming with mirth.

Steve knew it wouldn’t last, it never did. He knew as soon as Bucky fully woke up and regained his senses, everything would fade. Bucky would retreat back into himself. He would allow remorse wash back over him until it consumed his core and he couldn’t even remember the happy moments of the early morning.

“Steve?”

Steve looked up, everything was a blur. He hadn’t even realized he was crying until Bucky smoothed a thumb down his cheek. Bucky wiped away Steve’s tears just as Steve had done for him the night before.

“Don’t cry. I’m with you-“

Bucky stopped. The sentence was complete, but the phrase wasn’t finished.

Bucky’s lips move, but no sound came out. Steve watched at his friend, waiting for him to say those words that were so familiar to them both.

Bucky couldn’t speak the words, but he knew them. He knew them.

He looked so unsure of himself as he gazed at Steve. His eyes flickered, taking in Steve’s face as if he was seeing him again for the first time.

They were bare centimetres apart. Their lips so close they could both feel the air they breathed together passing between them.

“Steve?” Bucky said breathlessly, worried and confused. He didn’t know what was about to happen, but he could feel Steve’s heartbeat racing from where his hand was pressed to the other man’s chest.

Steve was quiet, his eyes soft and thoughtful as they met Bucky’s. He wondered if this was the right time. Finally, after all the years apart, finally they were back together again. Finally they could do as they liked.

Steve’s mind raced, two sides of his consciousness battling with ideas, throwing lances of pro and con. He closed his eyes and pressed the warring state away for once. He let instinct take over.

Steve moved forward slowly, giving Bucky all the time to stop him, to shout ‘no’, to pull away. But Bucky just watched, his eyes dropping to Steve’s lips as they came closer.

Bucky sucked in a sharp breath when Steve pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. His eyes went wide for a moment, and then closed. He was shaking, but not in distress, rather from the hot wave of desire that flooded through his core. It was Steve’s firm caress that calmed him, a broad hand running down the center of his back, ending at his hip where his thumb stroked over the line of muscle there.

Steve’s lips parted and Bucky mirrored him unconsciously. As their kiss deepened, Steve arched forward, pressing Bucky further into the back of the couch and lining up their bodies so completely they both wondered if they could melt under the intensity of the heat and friction it created.

Steve didn’t let his hands slip any lower, but it was obvious that he wanted to. He squeezed Bucky’s hips and ran his fingers deftly along the line of skin peaking from under Bucky’s shirt at his lower back.

Bucky let his hands move over Steve, touching the muscled expanse of Steve’s chest. He gripped Steve’s shoulders tight.

Each time Steve’s hand moved across a sensitive point a the base of his spine, Bucky’s entire body jolted with ecstasy. He had to break their kiss to gasp when Steve’s thumb inched down along his hipbone, moving lower, following the line of muscle down.

“Ah!”

Bucky’s eyes flashed opened. Steve jerked, pulling away very suddenly.

“Buck, your arm,” he said through gritted teeth.

Bucky was confused for a second, then he looked to his left arm. The metal hand was still malfunctioning, he’d almost forgotten. It had tried to close into a fist again, but couldn’t, stopped only because Steve was in the way. It was curled into a tight, constricting grasp with his thumb pressed into Steve’s collar and his fingers digging into the muscles of his back and shoulder. Another ounce of pressure and he could have broken bone

“It’s okay.” Steve tried to keep the pain from his voice, but it didn’t help. A look of horror was already streaming across Bucky’s features.

Bucky pried his hand away from Steve and sat up, forcing Steve to sit up along with him.

“Sorry,” Bucky uttered, already retreating back into his shell. His voice went quiet and he stared down at the floor, no longer making eye contact.

“It’s fine.” Steve shook his head and smiled, even while he rubbed the feeling back into his shoulder. He was quick to touch Bucky again, to show him that it was indeed fine, that he wasn’t hurt. He placed a hand along the back of the couch, rubbing Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky didn’t pull away. The gesture seemed to relax him, even if it was only just a little. He looked up at Steve and even shot him an, albeit sad, smile.

Calming down, Bucky eventually started to process what had just happened. he press confused fingers to his reddened lips, fascinated by the faintly numb, tingly feeling.

"We’ve never... done that before," Bucky whispered.

As Steve watched Bucky, he couldn’t help the grin that twitched at the corner of his lips.

"I'd like to think we'd both remember that," he joked.

Bucky let out a little huffing laugh at that, but the humor came and went like a lightening strike.

"But-" he started, slowly drawing out the word. What he’d meant to say left him for a moment. It took Steve’s gentle prompting to get his mind back on track.

"But?"

Bucky closed his eyes, remembering. "But I wanted to."

In his mind, Bucky could make out a burning want that etched a path of desire through his memories and led directly to Steve. That want had been so present that experiencing it again was revealing so many forgotten memories. They all lit up like lampposts along the line.

“I remembered wanting to,” Bucky said under his breath.

Steve blinked, his brows arching. He was about to respond, but they were interrupted by a sudden low buzz.

The front doorbell.

Steve sat up and looked down the hall, practically glaring daggers into the door, as if it was the cause of the interruption. He shot a quick glance back to Bucky, then the doorbell rang again. So, with an exasperated sigh, Steve got up to answer it.

He reached the door and pulled it open, ready to glare at whoever was on the other side right up until he saw who exactly it was.

“Captain,” the suited man in the hall greeted in a cheery voice.

"Coulson?” Steve looked at the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent with a confused frown.

He hadn’t seen Coulson since paying him a hospital visit after Fury had revealed to them that Coulson hadn’t in fact been killed by Loki during the Chitauri invasion. That had been a piece of deception that had prompted a lot of the cynicism Steve felt regarding S.H.I.E.L.D. business practices. Still, Coulson was alive and that was something good from the bad. And Coulson could be trusted.

But what was he doing on Steve’s front doorstep in the middle of the day? Steve had to ask.

"Well,” Coulson started to reply, “I was just having a chat with Stark. He mentioned that you and your ‘frenemy’ - his word not mine - ran out of the tower pretty suddenly the other day." Coulson seemed giddy as he stepped past Steve and into the house.

"Come in," Steve murmured in a tone laced with amused sarcasm. He closed the door and followed behind the shorter man into the living room.

Catching a glimpse of Bucky over Coulson’s head, Steve realized that his friend still looked positively debauched after their session on the couch. Bucky didn’t seem embarrassed by it at all, but Steve blushed and cleared his throat awkwardly. He hoped Coulson wouldn’t take any notice.

Thankfully, Coulson seemed fully distracted by Bucky’s mere presence, too distracted to see much beyond the fact that he was standing in the same room as two of his childhood heroes.

Coulson’s face lit up like it was Christmas morning. He tried to suppress his adoration, but as always did a fairly poor job of it.

"Sorry. Is that-? Are you-?"

Bucky's eyes went narrow, confused. He took a subtle step away from Coulson, moving slightly behind the couch, putting the large object between them.

"James Buchanan Barnes!” Coulson exclaimed. “Or Bucky. Can I call you Bucky? Bucky Barnes. Wow. I just- can I shake your hand?"

"No."

"Okay! That's fine!" Even after the rejection, Coulson was still grinning like a maniac. "This is so cool."

Bucky glared at him. Unlike Steve, Bucky hadn’t been gifted with the pleasure of working with Coulson before the events with HYDRA. All he knew was that Coulson was from S.H.I.E.L.D. and therefor he could not be trusted.

Steve looked between the two of them with a quirked brow. They seemed to be poles apart; Bucky with his angry glower and Coulson with a huge grin. However, despite seeing the obvious suspicion in Bucky’s eyes, Steve wasn’t concerned. He gentle managed the situation.

"Don’t worry, Buck. Um, are you gonna be alright, Coulson?"

"Yeah, sorry!” Coulson snapped out of his daze at hearing Steve’s voice. “I was just a huge fan of the Howling Commandos growing up . Bucky and, uh, you. You were my favorite of course, but all of you guys were great."

Bucky’s glare intensified.

“Well, thanks.” Steve tried to laugh it off, and to be fair the whole situation was hilarious. Still, he quickly changed the subject.

“So, Coulson, you haven’t really answered my question. What brings all the way out to D.C.?”

“Oh, I’m just chauffeuring.” Coulson gestured towards the door. “Stark will be up in a minute.”

“Stark?” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly very interested. “He’s here with you?”

“Yeah, he’s kind of sleep deprived, but he’s come to finish the job you gave him. He also said something about children’s parties? I didn’t really catch that. But you know how he is about finishing what he’s started.”

“Terrible at it?”

“Well, not in this case, it would seem.”

Steve tilted his head to one side and cast a glance over to Bucky. At the mention of Tony, Bucky’s face dropped. Steve was about to ask his friend if he was going to be okay when the front door opened again.

“Look, Coulson, I know you’re really excited to get an interview for your little Captain America fan club, but least you could do is help carry something up,” Tony muttered as he made his way into the house, kicking the front door shut behind him. He came laden with equipment. In each hand he held a metal case and under one arm he carried a toolbox.

“No one help. It’s cool,” Tony continued to gripe as he made his way into the front room.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Steve demanded.

Tony dropped all of his equipment on Steve’s coffee table and let out a heavy sigh. He placed his hands on his hips and turned to Steve.

“I was thinking we could do a bit of the work here, so that maybe Barnes can relax a bit,” he replied, cocking his head towards a very anxious looking Bucky.

Before Steve could protest, Tony started pulling opening cases and talking up a storm.

“I’ll still have more to do afterwards - probably have to replace the entire outer shell - but I thought the least I could now do is make Barnes here a bit more comfortable.”

After retrieving it from one of the cases, Tony held up a small device and some wires. All of the tech fit in the palm of his hand. It didn’t seem like much, but Steve was learning better than to underestimate modern technology.

“After thorough analysis of the model from yesterday,” Tony went on, “I was able to pinpoint where the jolts were coming from.” With that said, he held up the tiny circuit board that had been resting in his palm.

“It won’t be a permanent fix, due to that _slight_ stress factor we discovered, but this baby should alleviate some of the more extreme spasms for the time being.”

Steve gaped over how much Tony had accomplished in so little time.

“Tony, this is- you must have stayed up all night working on this.”

Tony waved that off airily. “I used to get up to this sort of repair work when I skipping preschool.”

Bucky watched the goings on around him with an air of apprehension. Steve was too busy being overwhelmed by the sudden arrival of his friends, so it was Tony that noticed first.

“So, you ready for this, Barnes?” he asked with a gentility in his tone that he hadn’t used the day before, but now recognized was needed.

Bucky closed his eyes and, with a heavy exhale, he sat down on the couch in front of all of Tony’s equipment. Reaching back, he pulled his shirt off over his head and replied,

“Let’s find out.”

✪

Steve sat with Coulson at the kitchen table, giving him the interview Tony had mentioned earlier that Coulson actually did want for his fan club that apparently really did exist. Meanwhile in the living room, Tony got to work on Bucky’s arm.  

"Ouch," Bucky said monotonously as a little jolt of electric current from one of Tony’s tools sent a tiny shock up his arm.

Tony shook his head and stuck the tiny electric arc device between his teeth so he could pick up a thin screwdriver.

"Don't pout," he bit out with some difficulty.

That only made Bucky pout more.

Tony chuckled, but the expression quickly wore thin. He put away the screwdriver and began a little more fusing work with the electric arc. As he did, his face went very sober.

“It’s called PTSD,” he murmured abruptly without halting his work on Bucky’s arm.

Bucky frowned. That had seemed to come out of nowhere and the words meant very little to him.

“What?”

“Post-traumatic stress disorder. It was coined in the 70s, it’s basically the go-to term for what... you’ve got,” Tony clarified. He didn’t look Bucky in the eye, but he waved one of his tools in the air in a vague gesture. “The numbness, the vivid recall, the trouble sleeping, the-“ scoffing at himself and shaking his head, Tony went back to work.

“You know,” he muttered finally.

Bucky stared a him long and hard. How would Tony know if he had trouble sleeping? It took a second, but Bucky eventually came to grips with what the man before him had just divulged. He recalled what Steve had said when Tony had arrived.

_‘You must have stayed up all night...’_

Bucky stared at the man, his eyes wide and sad. He observed Tony and broke down his profile just as Tony had done his arm. What he saw was Tony Stark: A good man, a suffering man, a man who was fixing his arm even while his neck bore the dark bruises from events that had only just happened the day before.

Tony flinched only slightly as Bucky reached up with his metal hand to touch his shoulder. His eyes traveled up the length of steel to meet Bucky’s. Tony cocked his head to one side when he saw the soft expression on the former-assassin’s face.

“What?” he said in his usual gruff manner.

In reply, Bucky smiled and simply said, “Thank you.”

There was a brief pause, then Tony’s own lips twitched up into a smile. It didn’t take long for it to turn smug. Bucky didn’t mind that at all. He could be pleased with himself for helping.

Tony worked quickly and efficiently. He fiddled with Bucky’s arm, but in a gentle manner, like a caring doctor working on his patient rather than a low-paid mechanic working on someone else’s car. Tony asked him if he was alright throughout the procedure. Bucky was so relaxed about it that he even turned on the TV and started watching a show while Tony worked. That was fine for a while, except they had to turn it off when it started distracting Tony and he almost accidentally soldered himself to Bucky.

★

When the arm was done and all the pieces were back in place, Tony started packing up. Once all of his tools were out of the way, he took hold of Bucky’s metal hand and twisted it a few different directions as one would when stretching wrist muscles.

“There we go, that should patch things up while I work on a full solution,” Tony said as he released Bucky’s arm.

Bucky looked at his hand. The fingers were shaky, and still they twitched slightly every so often, but it definitely wasn’t the drastic clenching that had been happening before. He had regained some control.

“Feel better?” Tony asked.

“Definitely.” Bucky sighed with relief. “Thank you.”

“No problem, Barnes,” Tony patted his metal shoulder as he stood from the couch. “Now I’m going to get back to work and soon we’ll have that arm shiny and new.”

Bucky looked at his arm, now with a new scar in the intricate metal work from Tony’s repair job. Having a new arm was going to be strange, but he couldn’t say he would miss the old-scratched metal. He looked forward to distancing himself from the soviet tech as soon as possible.

“Right! Coulson!” Tony called out, bringing Bucky out of his thoughts.

“Are you going to help me carry stuff this time or what?”

“I drove you, didn’t I?”

“Oh, so you can only do one thing?”

Coulson let out a sigh and turned his attention back to Steve, ignoring Tony as he said goodbye.

“Thanks for the interview, Cap. It was really great to finally be able to sit down and chat.”

“Anytime,” Steve said politely, but when he saw Coulson’s face light up he hastily added, “-that I’m not too busy. Call first.”

Coulson’s smile didn’t dim. “Yeah, of course. Thanks again, Cap.”

Bucky watched Coulson follow Tony out, saying a few more gushing goodbyes to Steve and even shaking his hand before he left.

"He really seems to like you," Bucky muttered as Steve closed the door. “The man in the suit,” he added for clarification.

“Coulson? He’s just a big fan,” Steve chuckled and nudged Bucky with his elbow. "Feeling jealous, Buck?"

When Bucky pointedly looked away and didn't answer, Steve's eyes widened with realization. He looked over at Bucky and opened his mouth to speak but snapped it shut right after. Instead of any more teasing or confronting him, Steve joined Bucky on the couch and wrapped an arm over his friend's shoulders.

“Was everything okay with Stark? Are you feeling alright? How’s your arm?”

Bucky blinked at the rapid line of questioning, but he relaxed into Steve’s side and just answered all three as simply as he could.

“Yes, yes and fine,” he replied curtly.

Steve nodded, trying not to look amused.

"And I'm not jealous," Bucky added after a time.

Steve grinned. "Whatever you say, Buck."

✪

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (continued in next chapter)


	6. Going Under

✪

They didn’t talk about what had happened that morning on the couch. Because of the stress of having to wait for Tony to finish creating Bucky’s new arm, things regressed to how they had been before they’d visited Stark that first time. Steve sat with Bucky close together on the couch and they continued to go through Steve’s list, marathoning an entire season of one of the TV show suggestions in a day.

They stayed up late and when they did go to bed they fell fast asleep as soon as their heads touched the pillows. Steve and Bucky still slept together, pressed close, dreaming innocently through the night.

In the morning, Steve woke to the sound of a ringtone he didn’t remember choosing blaring out a song he recognized as one of Tony’s favourites. He picked up his phone. It had barely taken twenty-four hours and Tony was already calling him up with the result of a full restless day’s labour.

“Tony?” Steve groaned out as he pressed his cell to his ear.

“Steve. Hi. I’ve got a whole new arm that we can piece together. Still though metal, most of this tech just doesn’t work with any other material, but it’ll be polished, bright, shiny and new. Also I can make a polymer skin-like cover for it. He’ll be able to touch and feel and everything. I just need to get a look at Barnes’ other arm, scan it and that cover will take no time with a 3D printer.”

Steve was only just barely able to take in all of what Tony had said. The man spoke a mile a minute usually, but for whatever reason his sleep deprived mind worked ten times faster.

“Wow, Tony. I can’t believe- Thanks for doing all of this so quickly. I mean, you must have had other projects to work on.”

Tony made a dismissive sound. “Hey, I’m a patriot, I love providing a service to the country, even if you are just the face of the country.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Well, thank you.”

“Uh yeah, before you keep thanking me, I should add there is a slight catch,” Tony cut in. “I need some big equipment to finish this job and JARVIS’ help. Bucky will need to come back to the lab if he really wants to do this.” Tony took a deep breath as he continued. “And I’ll have to give him a general anaesthetic.”

“Ah,” Steve whispered.

“Problem.” Tony replied. It wasn’t a question. He had already gaged that it would be.

“Yes. I’ll need to talk with Bucky before I schedule anything with you.”

“You do that, I’ve still got a few things to prep on my end. Just give me a call when you’re ready.”

“Alright. Thanks again, Stark. Try to get some sleep.”

“Sure. You still owe me, by the way.”

Stark hung up the phone, leaving Steve a bit confused for a second. Then with a laugh he remembered.

Right. That children’s party.

Bucky was startled awake by the vibration that Steve’s laughter caused. He sat up, and glared down at Steve.

Steve noted the sleepy upset look in Bucky’s eye and tried to stifle himself.

“Sorry,” he whispered, motioning for Bucky to lie with him again.

With a sigh, Bucky snuggled back up to Steve, shaking his head against the man’s chest. He was about to close his eyes and drift off again, he heard Steve say his name followed by the phrase,

“We need to talk.”

From all the pop-culture they had absorbed those past few weeks, Bucky knew that nothing good could come of those words.

He sat up again, letting Steve sit up as well.

Steve moved back until he was leaning against the headboard. One look at the worry in Bucky’s eyes told him he needed be gentle. So, running his fingers through his bed-mussed hair, Steve recounted the bad news.

“Tony needs you to come back to his lab.”

Bucky stared at Steve, his face void of all emotion.

That was already a bad sign.

“You don’t have to-”

“No,” Bucky was quick to reply in a sharp tone that stopped Steve in his tracks. “I know I don’t have to.” Bucky looked at his metal hand that still trembled faintly. He balled it into a fist and closed his eyes.

“I want to.”

Steve waited a moment, but when the clear look of determination did not leave Bucky’s eyes, he took at deep breath and nodded. He picked his cell back up and pressed call-back.

“Tony? We’re ready whenever you are.”

★

They scheduled a meeting for the next day. Steve and Bucky set out for New York in the early hours of the morning. It took a while with all the traffic, but Steve and Bucky eventually arrived at the Avengers Tower in the heart of the city.

Bucky thought he would have gotten over the eerie feeling the place gave him, but as he stood at the base of that colossal high-rise, he realized quickly that wasn’t the case. He definitely wasn’t over it.

Steve cast Bucky a sideways glance and noticed his arm beginning to twitch in a way that it hadn’t since Tony had done repairs days before. It had to be the stress factor that Tony had mentioned. Bucky’s heightened emotions were causing the arm to malfunction even with the system patch.

Steve tried to get Bucky to breathe deep and ease his shaking the entire way up in the elevator. It seemed to help a bit, especially when Steve ran a firm hand up and down Bucky’s lower back.

Pepper let them in with a little hesitance. It was fairly clear that she had heard and seen the results of the last time they had visited. She barely said a word to them as she ushered them down to the lab.

Steve wanted to say something to help calm her, something like, ‘It’ll be fine this time, honest!’ but he knew he couldn’t promise anything so he kept his mouth shut.

As soon as they got downstairs, Pepper spun on her heal. She was back upstairs in a flash, but this time there was no announcement of her leaving the building. After what had happened last time Steve and Bucky visited, she wasn’t going anywhere.

Down in the lab, Tony was all set up and ready to go. Hearing their footsteps behind him, he turned.

“Right on time,” he said with a nervous smile, his eyes flashing briefly towards Bucky with worry. “I’ll brief you and then we’ll get started.”

Bucky nodded. He approached Tony’s desk, feeling secure in the knowledge that Steve was right behind him.

Judging by the array of tools and tech spread out across the desk, there was indeed going to be a lot more to that surgery than there had been to the little repaid job Tony had done while implanting the chip.

Bucky’s eyes widened and he reached out the touch the pieces of what would become his new arm. Most of it was metal, but it was smooth and shined bright like silver. There must have been millions of tiny pieces that Tony would put together to make a new case after he fixed Bucky’s damaged arm.

“I scraped together and melted down the last scraps of vibranium on earth to make these,” Tony announced, raising one of the tiny pieces up to his face. “Mixed in some adamantium and voila, thin working material but with all the strength to withstand a hit from even Cap’s shield. Not that I think you two will be fighting anytime soon or anything,” he added quickly with a hesitant chuckle.

“Everything else is going to be fiddly work inside. I’m going to remove about seventy-five percent this hardware and replace it with my own. JARVIS is going to help instruct me in repairing the places where your nervous system connects with the computer system. I need you asleep during those parts. All this should fix any mechanical issues and tame the stress factor we talked about.”

Tony took a deep breath.

“So, yeah. Whenever you’re ready, Barnes.”

Bucky mirrored Tony in sucking in a breath and he nodded automatically. He pulled off his shirt with shaky hands and walked over to the chair. Letting out that shuddering breath, he tried to relax back into it. He was so jittery, he jolted when Tony pressed the control that lowered the chair back into a horizontal position.

Steve watched all of this with his hands balled nervously into fists at his sides. Bucky was trembling. His eyes were squeezed tight shut and his breath was coming in unsteady huffs. He couldn’t go under while he was in such a state. He was relapsing and, if his mind went to far into dark places, there was a possibility that he might end up trapped there once he regained consciousness.

Bucky needed to step into the difficult situation calm and with a clear head.

“Tony can you give us a minute before you get started,” Steve asked.

Tony ran his fingers through his hair. Without another word, he stepped out of the room, giving the two some privacy.

“Bucky,” Steve spoke softly, trying to bring his friend back away from the edge of panic. “Everything’s going to be fine. Stark can take care of this, no problem.”

“I know, I know, I just-“ Bucky just let his head fall back against the chair and sighed heavily. His face pinched as he tried not to think about going under, being unconscious. The prospect of what would happen during that time terrified him.

Steve swore under his breath. He could see the fear in his friend’s tense blue eyes. Bucky looked was petrified, too much like he had the moment Steve had found him in Zola’s lab.

“I’m here, Bucky. If you really want this, know that I’ll be right here the whole time,” Steve said, taking up Tony’s seat next to him. When Bucky shook his head and looked away, Steve put his hand on the back of his neck. “Hey. I’m with you till the end of the line, remember?”

Those words.

It was in that moment that Bucky realized, yes, he did remember. He remembered those comforting words coming out of his own mouth one afternoon when Steve needed him most. He remembered placing a hand on his friends shoulder even though he had been consumed with a want to do so much more.

Bucky’s brow knit together. He focused on the warm weight of Steve’s hand around the back of his neck and the feel of Steve’s gentle thumb casually massaging his jawline.

 “I didn’t want to say that,” he whispered.

Steve leaned back slightly upon hearing that admission. He frowned and he gazed dejectedly into Bucky’s eyes.

“What did you want to say then?” he asked.

Bucky surprised them both then. He reached out and pulled Steve in close. Their lips met for a ferocious kiss with too much force, but  neither seemed to mind. Bucky’s hand caressed the back of Steve’s neck, holding him close while Steve drew one hand to Bucky’s cheek and placed the other on his waist, lifting him slightly up off the chair towards him.

Bucky moaned quietly as their kiss broke. His blue eyes were dark with longing for more. But he just smiled and replied to Steve’s questions, simply saying,

“That.”

Steve let out a breathy laugh and was about to lean in to kiss Bucky again when the sound of someone clearing their throat distracted the two.

Tony was standing at the bottom of the stairs with a little smirk tilting one corner of his mouth.

“Sorry, don’t let me cut in,” he said, even though that had been his obvious objective.

Steve stood up straight and gave Bucky’s metal hand a final squeeze before stepping away as Tony approached.

“Superhuman boyfriends? That’s adorable,” he whispered as passed Steve.

“Shut up, Stark.”

Tony kept smiling, even though the time they all dreaded had come. He approached Bucky and opened a small med kit that had been placed next to him.

“Are you sure about this?” Tony asked.

“I wish everyone would stop asking me that,” Bucky muttered to himself, trying to joke even as he let out a long shaky breath. He looked up at Tony and nodded.

“Let’s do it.”

“Okay,” Tony took Bucky’s right arm in his hand and wiped it down. It didn’t take long for Tony to set up the intravenous injection and once done, he told Bucky to close his eyes once the anaesthetic started to take effect.

“It helps, trust me.”

Bucky swallowed anxiously. He didn’t want to close his eyes. Instead, Bucky looked out past all the equipment around him towards Steve. He was standing nearby with a gentle, if not a little worried, smile on his face.

Bucky tried keep their gazes locked, but soon found he couldn’t. His lids grew heavier and heavier until his eyes finally shut on their own.

✪

Hours later, Bucky woke up feeling as if no time at all had passed. He tried to look around, but at first a blur of memories washed over him. Like before, all he could see was an eerie mishmash of the labs and so-called scientists from his past. For a moment he recalled the first time he’d woken and raised his hands to eyelevel and saw those strange metal fingers that he controlled. He’d lashed out then.

But not this time.

This time, the hallucination cleared and Bucky gazed upon reality. He was in Stark’s lab. Steve was sitting nearby quietly reading a book, so absorbed in the pages that he hadn’t yet noticed that Bucky was awake.

Bucky smiled at that and then rolled his head back down to look up at the ceiling. Taking a deep breath, he raised his hands to eyelevel, just as he had done all those years ago.

This time, he saw two hands, two real hands. It seemed impossible, but there they were.

Bucky stared at his hands and barely registered the chair move to a upright position. He was still in a lab, but the whole environment seemed so much less threatening now, especially when he looked over to see Steve’s smiling face.

“Hey, pal,” he said, placing his book in his lap.

“Is this-“ Bucky stopped, shaking his head. “This is real?”

Steve’s smile only grew wider as he nodded. He squeezed Bucky’s new hand, and Bucky almost wanted to cry. He could feel the heat and pressure of Steve’s hold like he could with his real hand. It was a miracle.

A technological miracle.

Bucky looked from that wonderful place where their hands met, up to Steve. His smile only got bigger and he threw his arms around Steve, pulling his friend down against him. Steve could only laugh as he returned the embrace.

For the first time, it felt like Bucky was truly back with him. Not just in body this time, but in mind as well.

There a flash like lightening that jerked Steve and Bucky out of their embrace. Tony’s robot, Dum-E, was leaning over them, holding a camera in its clumsy grip.

“Don’t be rude, Dum-E!” Tony shouted as he came back into the room. “Though I am using that picture to send to the press. The head lines will read: Stark Industries Aid Captain America’s Once-Thought-Deceased Boyfriend With New Artificial Limb Technology. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m thinking of breaking into the prosthetics industry.” Tony plunked down beside them on his rolling chair, his face went very serious for a split second as he said, “My line of thinking was, why not use improved HYDRA technology to benefit our boys who don’t come home in one piece?” then he grinned. “That’s the quote I’m going to give the New York Times. Good right? I’m not so humble as to deny being pleased with myself. So, what do you think? Wanna be my poster boy, Barnes?”

Steve and Bucky looked at each other with identical expressions of amusement mixed with mental eye-rolling.

Tony saw this and threw up his hands, yielding dramatically.

“Just throwing ideas around,” he insisted. Clearing his throat, he addressed Bucky more soberly. “Some precautions, this baby needs air or it could overheat. The overheating shouldn’t damage the material, but I wouldn’t want to risk the new tech causing you any discomfort since your nerves are attached. So, this polymer sleeve needs to come off as often as possible when you’re at home and at don’t wear it at night. Here’s a cookie, you did good, old man.”

Bucky stared at the biscuit Tony was suddenly holding out in front of him. Did people usually get a cookie after an operation? Was that a thing? Bucky just shrugged and took the thing.

“Thanks, Stark.”

Tony grinned and started packing up his equipment. “Look at you using people’s names. Feeling better?”

Without answering, Bucky just sighed happily and looked up at the ceiling. Tony took that as a yes and left Bucky to eat his cookie with a big smile on his face.

It was nice being about to trust people, Bucky thought. He had gone to sleep in this place that brought back vivid memories of pain and darkness, but instead of waking up disoriented, with his mind wiped until he was nothing but an empty shell, a vessel for someone else’s ideals, this time Bucky woke feeling whole and new.

Steve rubbed his friend’s arm and Bucky looked up to smile at him.

They looked so utterly in love, Tony wanted to gag on the syrupiness of it all, but he just smirked.

“You two love birds need the room to yourselves again?” Tony teased.

When Steve turned to him, his cheeks were tinted red. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“No. We’ll get out of your hair,” Steve said as he stood from Tony’s rolling chair. He was quick to help Bucky up as well, who was a bit wobbly from the anaesthetic. The two of them started towards the stairs.

“You know you can always stay in the tower, if you really want,” Tony suggested. “It’s a bit of a way back to D.C. when you don’t have a chauffeur with a private jet.”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head as they walked back up into the main suite with Tony. “It’s alright, we can managed. Besides, the drive isn’t so bad.”

Tony shrugged. “Well, your floor in the tower is always open to you.”

“Thanks, Stark.”

“No. I’m serious,” Tony stared at him with slightly-bloodshot, sleepless eyes. “Your floor is open to you. Just you. It’s got retinal scans and fingerprint scans and DNA stuff. JARVIS set up all the security, but now I can’t even get the elevator to stop at that floor.”

Steve laughed hesitantly. He shot Bucky an awkward, confused glance.

“Try to get some sleep after we leave,” Bucky suggested. Tony looked over at him, surprised.

“Wow, seriously? That’s probably the most words I’ve heard you say. I gave you a new arm, not a psych degree,” Tony replied rolling his eyes. Still, a smirk lingered on his lips. “Alright. No new projects, I promise.”

Bucky smiled and nodded, thanking Tony again as he and Steve made their way out the front door.

★

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (continued in next chapter)


	7. TLC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The alternate title for this chapter is simply "Porn"

★

Once Steve got Bucky home, Bucky remained in high spirits for the rest of the day. When they were doing things together, hanging out, even just chatting, Steve would often see Bucky’s gaze stray down to look at his new hand, comparing it to his real hand even though the two were practically identical. Bucky would tap his fingers together with his thumb, testing the pressure with a tiny smile.

It was when they were heading off to sleep that Steve noticed Bucky start regressing again.

They got ready for bed in silence. Bucky striped quickly down to his boxers and changed into one of Steve’s shirts and slipped under the covers. Apart from the silence, there was nothing particularly unusual about that night, but Steve realized Bucky had not yet taken off the skin-like polymer covering his prosthetic arm.

Steve sat next to Bucky on the bed, putting a hand over the covers on his hip, trying to get his attention. But Bucky seemed intent on pretending to sleep.

“Hey. You remember what Stark said? You need to take the cover off so you don’t hurt yourself,” Steve murmured as softly as he could.

“I’m fine,” Bucky replied in an impassive tone. He said those words even as a sharp burn was starting to rise in his shoulder where his nerves connected to gradually overheating wires in the arm.

“Bucky-“

“I said, I’m fine,” Bucky repeated. This time there was anger in his voice and he focused Steve with a glare over one shoulder.

Steve let out a heavy sigh. “So, that’s what this has all been about,” he said softly.

Bucky turned away from Steve, shrugging a little further under the blankets.

“What are you talking about?”

“Bucky, come on,” Steve rubbed Bucky’s more firmly hip, urging him up. It took a while, but eventually Bucky relented. With a huff, he sat on the edge of the bed with Steve, but he stared down at the ground like a petulant child.

Steve helped him peel off the polymer sleeve. It wasn’t difficult. There was a magnetic strip hidden under the fabricated skin at the shoulder that fastened the sleeve to Bucky’s prosthetic. That strip’s magnetism was neutralized with the press of a bottom and then the sleeve could just be peeled away like a long glove.

Bucky watched Steve do this for him. He thought the other man would find it grotesque because the skin looked so real, but Steve didn’t even make a face. He simply pulled the sleeve away and set it aside in a case Tony had given them to keep it in.

When Bucky brought his hands up to eye-level, his face pinched and his eyes squeezed his shut. The metal hand was back. It was different, smooth and less utilitarian, but still that shining metal that reminded him of his past.

For a few glorious hours he had been able to pretend that selective forgetting was okay, that all the parts he hated about himself from the past were just some horrible dream. That everything between his fall from that train and his showing up at Steve’s door had been a strange unreality. Just a nightmare.

He had been kidding himself.

“It’s a bit change, isn’t it?” Steve murmured.

Bucky just scoffed, cradling his left arm close.

“Look, I know how you feel,” Steve said reassuringly. “Look at me! I went through a big change as well.”

Bucky let out a half-amused sound.

“Not the same,” he replied under his breath, side-eyeing Steve hard.

Steve’s eyes turned sad and he shrugged. “Well, even if not, it sure felt like a big change for me. It was different and weird and I felt a little uncomfortable in- well-“ he gestured up and down his body “-this.”

Bucky sighed. “In my mind, you’re still just that same scrawny kid from Brooklyn who didn’t know when to pick a fight,” he muttered. “Still don’t.”

A grin split Steve’s face so wide that his eyes wrinkled. For once it seemed like Bucky didn’t even have to put any effort into bringing his memories to the surface.

“Well, in my mind,” Steve began to retort, “you’re still just Bucky: the best friend a guy could ask for.” He took Bucky’s metal hand in his and teasingly added, “With some slight modification.”

Bucky chuckled. He gazed at their hands and let his metal fingers lace with Steve’s real ones.

“Buck.”

Bucky’s eyes were drawn back to Steve’s. The earnest look in them was overwhelming. It caused his chest to constrict at the sight and Bucky squeezed Steve’s hand tighter.

“Back in Brooklyn, when I lost everything, I was still thankful because even when I had nothing I still had you. You know that right?”

Bucky’s brow creased. He felt tears pricking the corners of his eyes as Steve whispered those passionate words.

He did know. Of course he did. He knew because he remembered that back then Steve was all he had too. Even after all that all that time that fact hadn’t changed.

Bucky leaned forward, moving in until his face was barely an inch from his. It was as if everything since their untimely reunion had been ever so slowly leading them there. To that moment.

“I love every bit of you,” Steve continued, his voice barely a breath. “No matter what its made of.”

Bucky faltered. He couldn’t move. He could practically taste Steve on his lips, feel his warm breaths, but he just couldn’t move. That is, until Steve whisper softly, “What are you waiting for?”

Bucky stared into his friend’s eyes, momentarily staggered. Only one word left his lips.

“Love?”

Steve didn’t even dignify that with a response. He pressed forward and their lips met in a heated kiss, not to soft, not too rough. Third time’s the charm, as it were.

As they kissed, Steve felt a sensation like fire swelling inside him. It was something he’d never experienced before and the raw ache of it made it so that all he wanted to do was pull Bucky closer to him, bring their bodies together.

They devoured the wet heat of each other’s mouths, tasting each other’s lips. Bucky tasted sweet, but slightly bitter like the tea he always drank. Steve savoured it.

Eventually, they broke apart for air and their eyes met. Bucky felt a low tightening as it happened. Steve’s eyes were glazed like a lake frozen by a Russian winter. He looked at Bucky with such zealous intensity that Steve probably wouldn’t have recognized himself in the mirror if he could see it himself.

Bucky sucked in a sharp breath and pulled back when Steve tried to lean in and kiss him again. There was a pause, and Steve was about to ask what was wrong, but before he had the chance, Bucky was pulling his shirt off over his head. Steve did likewise and with that barrier out of the way, they came back together like magnetism.

Steve pulled Bucky forward into his lap and they let their hands roam over the expanses of each other’s naked torsos. Steve caressed Bucky’s lean sides, loving the way his back arched flexibly as he pressed their lower bodies together.

Bucky moaned at the feel of hard muscle beneath his fingers. He held on to Steve with his right arm as he rolled their hips together and let his left hand travel down. When is fingers teased over Steve’s nipples, Bucky couldn’t help but smirk at the other man’s reaction.

Steve hissed as the cool metal ran across his chest. He was edging on letting out a guttural moan when that sensation moved lower and Bucky started tracing the dips and curves across his abdomen.

Still, Steve gave as good as he took. He roguishly pushed up with a thrust of his hips that forced a surprised gasp out of Bucky.

Bucky was practically panting against his lips as well when they finally broke for air. Steve pressed chaste kisses to the corners of his mouth as he recovered his breath.

“Steve, can we- more,” Bucky breathed. His words sent a jolt straight to Steve’s cock.

His cheeks flushed as he slid Bucky from his lap, laying him back on the bed. Red-faced, Steve looked down between their bodies. He wanted more too, but there was a slight... knowledge barrier.

“I- uh, do you... know how this-?“

Bucky’s gaze flashed to Steve and found the other man looking down at the mattress, slightly embarrassed. Bucky rolled his head back, letting out a low chuckle. He looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully and then an amused frown crossed his face.

“I’ve done this before,” he admitted, as he recalled an event. Steve bit his lip anxiously, but immediately calmed when Bucky followed up by adding, “back in Brooklyn.”

“Really?” Even as they spoke, Steve leaned over Bucky, pressing their bodies together, gently rolling his hips while he waited for the salacious details that Bucky had apparently kept from him all those years ago.

Bucky tried not to smirk, but failed poorly. “I met this guy, when I started basic training,” he started, casually arching into Steve’s movements.

“Blond.” He ran his fingers through Steve’s hair. “Blue eyes. A pretty skinny guy, but taller.”

“Taller than who?” Steve asked leaning forward so their noses touched.

Bucky didn’t need to answer. He clasped a hand around Steve’s neck and pulled him back into another deep kiss. It broke quickly as Bucky moved back more towards the center of the bed. He lay on his back and put a foot on Steve’s shoulder as he made to approach.

Steve took Bucky’s ankle in one hand, practically able to wrap his entire hand around it. He stroked up and down Bucky’s leg, higher and higher until he reached the line of the boxers Steve had borrowed him.

“You want me to take these off?” Steve asked, his voice dropping an octave, coming out rough as he spoke.

Bucky cocked his head to one side.

“It would be a place to start.”

Steve chuckled at that. Pressing a gentle kiss to Bucky’s ankle, he let the foot fall to his side. He moved between Bucky’s legs. Reaching his waistband, Steve pulled the boxers down and off. The pants were chucked to some innocuous corner of the room.

Bucky was left laying in the centre of the bed, his naked body on display. Steve ran his hands over Bucky’s hips, his eyes drawn to the scars that dotted his friend’s body. He traced the raised skin with deft fingers, drawing a shiver from the man underneath him. The heavy arousal between his thighs pulsed.

“Okay?” Steve asked from his place kneeling between Bucky’s legs.

Bucky closed his eyes and nodded. He reached forward blindly, letting his hand run down the line that cut its way down Steve’s stomach. His fingers hooked in the waist of Steve’s tented pyjama bottoms and he tugged until they loosened.

Letting out a huff of laughter, Steve climbed off the bed and stripped. He crawled back between Bucky’s legs, watching Bucky’s eyes grow dark as his pupils dilated.

“That’s... different than I remember,” Bucky murmured breathlessly.

Steve smiled and leaned in for another kiss. He lowered himself onto Bucky, letting him take his weight. Steve pressed his hips forward, gently thrusting and revelling in the moans he received in response. He may not have had much experience, but he knew what felt good.

Bucky wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist, pulling him and driving the rhythm of his thrusts. A pressure was growing, low, where Steve’s cock was sliding along his own.

Then the sensation just stopped.

Bucky was left panting. He opened his eyes to see that Steve was leaning away, reaching into one of the drawers in his bedside table.

“What are you doing?”

Steve came back to him, holding a long capped bottle in one hand.

“Lotion?” he replied with an uncertain blush darkening his cheeks.

Bucky took the bottle. He stared at the label, looking between it and his new hand. The crafted metal shell was smooth, ostensibly grooveless in stark contrast to his previous arm that had had functional panels with deep grooves which moved and recalibrated to provide the arm more power.

Bucky moved his fingers and then a microscopic smirk lit his face with a wicked expression that traveled all the way to his eyes.

Steve watched breathlessly as Bucky slid his metal hand across his belly and down between his legs. He rested his ankles in the crooks of Steve’s elbows as he spread them, forcing Steve down between his legs for a good view of what was to come.

It had been so long, but Bucky remembered the searing pleasure that he’d received when taking a man that first time. He remembered how he’d laid back under the tall blond, imagining it was Steve moving inside him.

The sensitive muscles felt very much like they had the first time. There was only pleasure when Bucky pressed his own cool metal digits inside. He threw his right arm over his eyes and groaned.

Steve watched that tiny ring of muscle stretch as Bucky’s fingers slid in and out. He licked his lips, unable to move more than a bit with Bucky’s feet pinning his elbows to the mattress.

“Is that good?” Steve husked out as Bucky continued to pleasure himself.

Bucky was quiet for a second then one eye peaked out from under his right arm. He smiled up at Steve and hummed contentedly.

“You should try it.”

“Maybe next time,” Steve breathed, not taking his eyes off the place where Bucky’s hand was working between his legs.

Bucky moaned at the thought of next time.

The shining metal of Bucky’s fingers moved slickly. He didn't have an ounce of shame. He didn't care what sort of tantric image he illustrated as he fucked himself back on his fingers. All he knew was the rush of heat that curled in his belly when he flexed and curled his metal digits, exploring his body in the most intimate way possible.

Still held down, Steve could only watch and occasionally kiss or nip at Bucky's inner thighs.

Bucky worked himself open for a while until he was sure he would come if he kept at it even a minute longer. His metal fingers slipped from his body, leaving a salaciously wet trail of lotion streaked across his inner thigh.

Steve managed to slip out of Bucky’s hold and crawl back up to kiss him. Bucky was panting into the kiss that neither of them could sustain in their breathless condition.

Steve reached between their bodies, where Bucky’s hand had been. He traced a finger over his entrance, pressing gently until just the pad slipped inside.

“Steve,” Bucky keened, putting a hand on the broad chest that was looming over him.

“Too close,” he gasped out.

Steve pulled his hand back and reached for the lotion. Kneeling between Bucky’s widespread legs, he spread it over the length of his cock, probably taking a bit longer than he needed to as he watched Bucky’s chest heave gently from the onslaught of pleasure.

“Ready?”

Bucky’s only response was to squeeze his thighs tight around Steve’s hips, digging his knees into the bigger man’s sides.

Chuckling, Steve leaned over Bucky and pressed a chaste kiss to his parted, gasping lips before reaching down between them. He took his cock in hand and pressed the head to Bucky’s puckered entrance. He didn’t press in fully, just the tip moved in and out of Bucky for a while. Steve had to bit his lip as he teased, resisting the urge to simply fuck forward into Bucky with one hard thrust. He enjoyed watching Bucky’s chest heave with anticipation until finally the man underneath him snapped.

“Steve!”

That was all the prompting he needed. Steve was amused by Bucky’s reaction to his teasing as he pressed forward, but as soon as he head of his cock breached that tight ring of muscle, his expression turned to a look of pure bliss. He slid forward, burying the entire length of his cock inside Bucky with one steady thrust.

It was Bucky’s turn to be amused when Steve bottomed out inside him. Above him, Steve was practically trembling as a whole new sense of pleasure washed over him.

“First time, Stevie?” Bucky said, baiting him in a voice that had gone much deeper than normal. It bore a playful air that echoed in Steve’s mind like a long forgotten memory.

Steve wanted to retaliate with something witty, but his brain could not supply him with enough energy to form words. So his only reply was to cant his hips forward sharply. Bucky’s teasing immediately turned into a delighted cry. His fingers dug into Steve’s shoulders and one hand wrapped around his cock as he arched back, taking every one of Steve’s deep, piercing thrusts.

Steve let his hands roam the leanly muscled body before him. He held Bucky’s hip and let one hand slid up the center his chest as he continued to roll his hips. He palmed Bucky’s nipples until they were both hard. The play send little electric jolts through Bucky that Steve could feel within him with each tweak and thrust.

Obscene sounds of sweat slicked skin meeting with each penetrating thrust filled the room. Bucky was rocking against Steve, urging him on and Steve groaned at the feel of those thighs around his waist, how they strained to meet every forward thrust.

Steve's hands moved up and down those straining thighs, to Bucky's hips then back to the curve of his ass. He squeezed gratuitously at the flesh, drawing a shaky moan from Bucky.

With a sudden burst of vigor, Steve lifted Bucky back into his lap. They were sitting upright in the bed, Bucky on his knees, Steve with his legs spread out under them.

Grinning, Bucky took control of the pace. He rode Steve, holding onto his broad shoulders for balance as he grinded slowly on the hard flesh inside him. He smiled, noticing that Steve was practically shaking, affected by the sudden change in the rhythm.

Steve could only take the gentle, measured pace for so long. Soon, he grasped Bucky’s hips and held him still while he thrust up.

As he approached the white abyss of climax, Steve’s thrusts became erratic, almost animalistic as he let the primitive side of his consciousness take over. His hair stuck to his forehead, damp with sweat looking positively debauched.

Bucky loved the wild change in him. He already knew he wanted to see it again and again. He carded his fingers thoroughly Steve's hair, pushing it off his sweaty brow. For a second Steve’s glazed eyes met his and they both paused.

They leaned into each other and their lips met, wet and bruised. Both moaned into the kiss and Steve repositioned them so that Bucky’s back was once more pressed to the mattress.

Their hips began moving again as they kissed until their lungs ached from the lack of oxygen. The air between them was hot and moist, and Steve swore he could see his Bucky’s sweat turn to vapour under the heat of his hand as metal digits ran down the centre his chest.

Bucky took himself in hand. Already so close the edge, it didn’t take much to push him over. He stoked his cock with slow slides up the shaft. When Steve’s erratic thrusting hit a particular spot inside him, he came with a loud cry, spilling out over his metal fingers.

Bucky’s pleasure was evident. He threw his head back, lips slightly parted as he took in panting breaths of overheated air. Steve saw and when he joined Bucky, it was with a groan as his body constricted around him. Steve was still, shuddering for a second, then he pressed a few more leisurely thrusts forward.

Eventually, he collapsed forward, but held his weight up off of Bucky. Only their hips were still connected and their legs twined together. Steve leaned forward and pressed his nose and brow to Bucky’s, drawing one hand through the damp black hair at the back of his neck.

They stayed like that for a long while, both panting against each other’s lips as they came down until they air between them became too stifling to breathe. Steve rolled onto his side, causing the bed to shake as he fell onto the mattress with a heavy, satisfied sigh.

“That was, you know,” Steve uttered quietly after a while.

Curious, Bucky rolled over to face him. He could only see half of Steve’s face for all the pillows, but even so he could make out the honest expression there.

“That was what?” Bucky asked.

“My first time.”                     

Bucky’s lips curled up into a smug grin. He didn’t reply or tease. Words weren’t needed. He simply inched forward and buried himself against Steve’s chest.

Even once the afterglow faded, the moments before sleep took them were pure bliss. The noise from the busy streets below faded as the world outside their bedroom walls seemed to slip away for a while.

There was no past, no uncertain future. Just the present.

Just Steve and Bucky.

✪

Bucky woke alone for the first time, finding Steve gone. He was surprised for a moment, but wasn’t given time to let it upset him because a second later he heard footsteps coming down the hall.

Steve appeared half naked in the doorway. In one had, he held a steaming mug of tea.

“Morning,” he said with a glowing smile. He approached the bed, sitting on the edge while he waited for Bucky to sit up and lean back against the headboard.

“You made me tea?” Bucky awed as Steve handed him the mug, another kitschy thing with the president surrounded by flags, eagles and the slogan ‘change’ scrolled across it.

Steve made himself comfortable next to Bucky, wrapping an arm around his waist. He smiled timidly and shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You like tea.”

Bucky hummed his agreement, but looked up at the ceiling. His lips pinched into a quirky smirk and he shrugged.

“Most people have a smoke after great sex.”

“Oh, geez, Buck.”

“I’m just saying,” Bucky teased. He was partially surprised that Steve could still blush after what they’d done the night before.

Steve threw his head back a laughed so hard that Bucky nearly spilt his tea. He was wiping tears away, thinking that they were from laughing so hard until he realized that at some point he’d actually started crying.

Bucky’s brows arched into a sympathetic expression. He put him mug down on the bedside table and took Steve’s cheeks in his hands.

“You okay?” he asked gently.

Steve smiled through the tears, sniffling only slightly.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice breaking slightly with emotion. “It’s just- You’re really back now, aren’t you?”

With a little shrug, Bucky retrieved his tea from the table held Steve’s mug close to his chest, sighing at the feel of it warming both his hands. He took a sip and leaned against Steve’s side, feeling awash with happiness as a strong arm wrapped around him.

“Yeah,” Bucky whispered.

“I think I’m really back.”

★

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Epilogue coming soon!**
> 
>  
> 
> **Your kudos make you an official member of Coulson’s Howling Commandoes Fan Club.**  
>  **Your comments get the boys ready for round two.**
> 
>  
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://itsanidiom.tumblr.com/).


	8. Epilogue

★✪

Epilogue

✪★

Even with all his memories back, Bucky couldn’t remember ever being as happy as he was then. With his new life and his new arm and Steve, everything just felt better.

Bucky started wanting to go out more, even asking to leave the apartment, first just to get some fresh air, then they started going on longer and longer walks and it eventually progressed to visiting friends and actually socializing.

Soon Bucky was joining Steve and Sam on their tri-weekly morning runs around the Mall. It was nice to be active. On their second run together, Steve gave Bucky the helpful tip that he should make sure he let Sam know each time he was about to pass him. Steve told him it was polite, but Bucky noticed Sam seemed annoyed every time he passed with a little murmur of, ‘On your right’.

He was probably just saying it too quietly.

As time went on, Steve often took Bucky out in a romantic sort of way as well, which shocked Bucky at first, until he realized that for the most part people in the modern age really didn’t care if they saw two men holding hands on the street. The two of them went out on actual dates, even double dates, like the one time Pepper invited them out and forced Tony along.

Pepper had forgiven them for what had happened to Tony and she was just happy to see Bucky recovering so well.

Steve took Bucky around to all the famous sites in D.C. They even went to the movies regularly. Steve was starting to know more about the newest releases than most of his friends. It made him especially smug, which in turn made Bucky smile.

One night, about two months after Bucky had arrived on his front doorstep, Steve started planning a party in celebration of Bucky’s road towards recovery. Everything was organized and a week later all of Steve’s friends were gradually showing up at his front doorstep for dinner.

✪

Sam was the first to arrive, greeting Steve with a hug before turning to Bucky.

“Hey, Buck! Let’s see that arm Stark’s been bragging to all the papers about! ‘Amazing advance in the field of prosthetic limb research’. Let see it!”

Bucky raised hand. He wasn’t wearing the skin like silicone sleeve as he usually did when they were out together. It was just metal, but cleaned, polished and new, no longer darkened and scratched with damage from his other life. The silver looked soft and smooth, free from all the scars of violence.

Sam grinned and raised his own fist in the air.

“Pound it!”

Bucky was a bit taken aback, but he hesitantly curled his hand into a fist and raised it to mimic Sam. The man knocked their fists together with a hardy laugh.

Lowering his hand, Sam patted Bucky on the back. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

Natasha arrived soon after Sam with Clint at her side.

“Hey, Clint. Where have you been?” Steve asked with a laugh.

“In Syria. Didn’t miss much over here, did I?” he asked with a deadpan expression.

Steve chuckled and shook the other man’s hand.

Natasha greeted them a little more formally, stepping up to Bucky with a small gift in hand.

“It’s tea,” she announced in Russian, holding it out to him.

“Aren’t presents supposed to be a surprise?” Bucky replied in kind. He took the gift and smiled. “Thank you.”

Natasha shrugged and looked over at Clint. She was quick to make introductions between the two of them and then she led her partner into the house. As Natasha and Clint joined Sam in the living room, the door bell rang again.

“Good evening, friends!” Thor announced as he entered the small apartment. He was dressed down for the evening in some fashionable street clothes that Jane had probably insisted he buy.

“Thor!” Steve greeted with a smile, “Hey, glad you could make it.”

“I am glad as well, friend. Unfortunately, my lady, Jane, could not accompany me for she is presently doing science.”

Steve wasn’t even amused by that phrasing, he just nodded in understanding.

“You haven’t met Bucky yet have you, Thor?”

“No, but I bore witness to his exploits on the television news screen. Bucky, the wielder of the metal arm.”

“Well, I wouldn’t really say I wield it,” Bucky replied, his voice a slow drawl and he looked over at Steve with an expression that wondered ‘Why does this giant man talk like that?’

Thor didn’t notice the odd exchange. He tapped his chin, thoughtfully. “You remind me of my friend Tyr,” he said suddenly. “Tyr also lost one hand.”

Bucky tried to bite back a laugh. “Well, we are all pretty similar. Us amputees with the whole having one hand thing.”

Thor nodded, genuinely not catching the flagrant sarcasm in Bucky’s tone. He seemed ready to go on when a shout interrupted.

“Hey, big man!” Sam called out from the living room.

“Sam, son of Will! How fair your mighty wings of ore?” Thor was quickly ushered down the hall to join the others.

Tony, Banner and Coulson all showed up at the same time. Seeing the narrow look in Bucky’s eyes, Tony was quick to lead Coulson into the other room before he had the opportunity to say much more than a quick, “hello” to Steve. Banner followed them without ceremony, politely handing Steve a bottle of wine to serve with dinner.

Steve took it with a grateful nod. As his friends mingled among one another, he stayed near Bucky, only leaving his side briefly the entire night, much to Bucky’s obvious pleasure and relief.

At one point, Bucky removed himself to the hall, just for a breather. Steve followed him. They stood, leaning against opposite sides of the narrow walls.

“Having fun?” Steve asked with a timid grin. Bucky already looked a bit exhausted and they hadn’t even had dinner yet.

But he still nodded. “It’s fun,” Bucky replied. “It’s probably good for me, being around lots of people, but- but let’s not do this every week.”

Steve chuckled. “Agreed.”

A thin smile spread across Bucky’s lips. He leaned off the wall and for a second Steve thought he was going to rejoin the party, but instead Bucky reached out. His metal fingers grasped the front of Steve’s shirt.

Steve found himself pulled forward. He half tripped, his arms landing on the wall, framing either side of Bucky’s head. Bucky didn’t release the front of his shirt, rather he used it to pull Steve down the few inches it took to reach his lips.

They both sucked a sharp breath in through their noses as their lips met. Their lips parted, and Steve felt the wet slide of Bucky’s tongue along his teeth that urged him open his mouth. Bucky pulled him closer and deepened the kiss.

Steve tried to repress a groan so as not to draw attention to them, but it was too late to hide, they’d already been discovered.

“Didn’t we agree that public displays of affection make people uncomfortable?” Natasha demanded as she walked past them coming out of the kitchen. She sounded more amused that actually upset. The little smirk on her face confirmed that.

Still, Steve pulled away from Bucky, blushing furiously. He looked to see if Bucky was in a similar state, but the impassive look on his friend’s face reminded him that it would take a lot more than being caught making out in a hallway to make him flush.

“Ah, we were just about to get dinner ready,” Steve tried hopelessly.

“Uh huh,” Natasha hummed. She turned to Bucky then, nodding at Steve.

“Он никакой пользы?” she asked with a raised brow.

Bucky smirked in response and answered simply, “Очень.”

Steve knew they were talking about him, and not just about the kiss Natasha had walked in on. At the same time he didn’t want to know. His blush spread down to his chest and he cleared his throat.

“Okay- I’m gonna- Dinner. Yeah.” Steve slipped away from the two former assassins, heading for the kitchen. He could hear them both tittering quietly behind him.

Bucky followed shortly after to help and it wasn’t long before dinner was served. Steve poured them all a glass of Banner’s wine and they sat down to enjoy the meal. They followed up with dessert, a cake that Steve insisted that Bucky had baked himself, when in reality Bucky’s main contribution had been icing it. The cake was served with tea and everyone sat around a noisy table filled with friendly conversation.

Steve took Bucky’s hand, holding it at the edge of the table. They smiled at each other, happy together, surrounded by new friends and loved ones. That was how it should have been, how it always should have been.

And how it would stay.

★✪

The End

✪★

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Quickie Russian Translation:**  
>  He any good?  
> Very.
> 
> Thank you all for reading! I’m planning a PWP, but my next big adventure with Steve/Bucky will be a dark reverse Winter Soldier AU ([Do I Wanna Know](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2201379/chapters/4823046)) where it was Steve who became the Winter Soldier, not Bucky. So stay tuned for that if you want to see me write something completely opposite to this fluffy grandeur!
> 
>  
> 
> **Your kudos fly over Steve and Bucky, leaving them in your awesome Falcon dust.**  
>  **Your comments move on to darker things in my reverse Winter Solder AU - ‘[Do I Wanna Know](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2201379/chapters/4823046)’**
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://itsanidiom.tumblr.com/).


End file.
